All Roads Lead To Us
by gabthebomb
Summary: After the summer break, Liz is incredibly unlike herself. What happened during the hiatus that made her this way? Heartbreak, healing, and eventually Jack/Liz.
1. Chapter 1: Change of Pace

**Author's Note: This was inspired by a story from author Allani. The time frame is post season 5. **

Jack Donaghy was feeling extremely impatient. It had been nearly two hours since he had arrived at the office for the first time since leaving in late May. Most everything was in order—the phone calls, the new performance reports, the imported flowers, the morning scotch. This routine was comfortable, familiar. There was something missing, though, and it took him a second to put his finger on it.

Where was Lemon?

It was mid-morning, and that meant that Liz should have been barging into his office with some trite problem or complaint ages ago. He frowned and stared at the heavy oak doors, willing them to open, but the handles remained still. Between getting caught up in his time with Liddy and visiting his mother, he had not seen Liz In months. The last time he saw Lemon, she was donning a felon's jumpsuit and picking up trash in the park. He smiled at the memory, but his face fell when he realized that he never heard from her after the encounter. He felt somewhat bad for not even calling to check in over the summer, but then again, she hadn't called either. After a minute of contemplation, he decided that he would pay a visit to the TGS floor.

"Jonathan, don't hold my calls."

"Um, okay, sir… Where are you going?"

He gestured vaguely to his annoying assistant, heading towards the elevator. Jack hoped that nothing was actually wrong with Liz and that she was just running late or caught up in some actor issue. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

-.-.-.-.-

Jack swept into the writer's room, and halted in his tracks. This was due to the fact that a very unusual scene was occurring in the den. For once, everyone was actually working. The writers barely glanced up as he walked in the room, their heads bent over notepads and laptops. Only Cerie offered him a cool 'hey', and then returned to her texting. Jack raised an eyebrow, and continued towards Liz's closed office door. Upon hearing what seemed like a phone conversation, he hesitated outside, not wanting to interrupt. The conversation was muffled, but he was able to make out Liz's side of the call here and there.

"…deadline for the _Dealbreakers_ sequel is entirely unreasonable… Yes, still working full time at NBC… I could care less! …I hardly think that counts as an advance… Fine, I will speak to the editor directly!"

He heard the phone slam in its cradle, noticing that any type of parting word was left unsaid. He knocked on the door tentatively. What he had heard of the conversation seemed like Liz was having issues with the writing side of her life, and he didn't want to intrude at a bad time.

"Come in", came the not entirely welcoming reply.

Jack opened the door, raising his eyebrows in surprise. For one thing, the office was drastically different. The décor was new, the old couch was replaced by a new black one and it had pillows in shades of gray and beige. A stylish mahogany desk stood in place of the rickety old one. The paintings of food, hanging oversized eating utensils, and quirky photographs were missing. All that remained of the room when he last saw it was the old TGS wall piece. Otherwise, the overall feeling of the room was different, stark…impersonal. It was the office of a serious manager or a busy executive. Not an office of the relaxed and often lazy character known as Liz Lemon.

He observed these changes, but sucked in a breath at an even more alarming presence in the room. For standing in front of him, facing the window with her back turned was a woman whom he did not recognize immediately. She stood tall in expensive black stilettos with signature red heels (Jack recognized them from Avery's closet), and she wore a tailored steel gray suit, the knee-length skirt tastefully hugging her ass. Finally, though her dark hair was twisted in a classy "business bun", he could still make out new honey highlights. Suddenly, she spun with her hands on her hips, facing Jack with a slightly irritated look in her eyes.

"What do you want, Donaghy?" she demanded. His brow furrowed at this address. _Whatever happened to hello? And since when is 'Jack' not okay?_

"Lemon?" he replied, hesitant, "Is everything alright?" Clearly, it was not.

He didn't miss the flicker in her chestnut eyes, and he mentally noted it for later.

"Of course. I'm just in the middle of something right now." She sighed, and then her eyes narrowed. Cocking her head, she continued, "I apologize for not calling you the very second that I arrived this morning. I wasn't aware that my every move was your own personal business." He watched her mouth as it moved, mesmerized by the red lipstick.

This new, sarcastic Liz was certainly a shock. The woman in front of him was arrogant, distant. He watched as she eyed him up and down in a move that he knew to be the Manhattan Once-Over, and he felt like he was being x-rayed. His tie felt crooked all of a sudden. He wasn't sure if he remembered to get his bi-weekly haircut. Worst of all, having _Liz _seemingly judge his appearance was quite off-putting. He didn't yet know what was really going on, and he did not like feeling uncertain. At the same time, the man in him appreciated this newly put-together, if unfriendly, Liz. He noticed that she was thinner; still curvy, but toned. _Lemon working out? _What had happened to her over the summer that made her this way? Now he felt truly terrible for not checking in.

"Come on, Lemon. Obviously something happened to you during the break. Why don't we just talk about it?" he prodded. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if the hard mask was going to soften. Liz cleared her throat and her fingers fluttered to her chest. She fingered the lapel of her suit, smoothing an invisible crease. When her face reappeared, it was staring at him coldly, and with zero emotion she stated,

"My parents perished in a crash in July."


	2. Chapter 2: Why it's Different

"_My parents perished in a crash in July." _

The statement echoed in his head, and a few things began to click into place. He surmised that the cold front was a somewhat reasonable reaction, if not the way that Lemon usually dealt with issues. For the most part, though, he was still confused about the rest of the changes.

"A car crash? I'm so sorry, Elizabeth." He knew that Liz had been close to her parents, and he realized that she had had to deal with it alone. She had probably been crushed. He cringed, once again regretting his inability to send even one email.

She started slightly at the use of her full name, but otherwise her expression remained stoic. "No. It was a boat crash. They were vacationing with relatives in Maine. No one else was hurt, but they died on impact," she stated flatly. Jack groaned internally. Of course it wasn't a car crash; that would be too commonplace.

He thought about placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, but he assumed that she would just shrug it off. "I've moved past it. Now, is this a business-related visit? You could have just sent a message down to Cerie, you know." She smirked then, as if the idea of Jack wanting to see her in person was ludicrous. Never mind the fact that it had been months. _You could have just stopped into my office to say hello, _he thought.

He shook his head. "No, I just wanted to try and catch up a bit. I feel bad for not keeping in contact, especially now…Again, I am sincerely sorry. For that, and for your loss."

Her eyes narrowed. _Her makeup looks rather nice_, he thought randomly. Watching her face, he realized her usual glasses were absent. The 'L' pendant that she always wore around her neck was gone, too.

"It is not your job to take care of me like a child," she sneered, "I am handling it." She turned away, rifling through some papers on her desk and searching for something. "_Where is my damn Blackberry?_" she muttered.

Jack just stood there, puzzled as to why she was refusing to open up to him. Hadn't he (almost) always been there for her? Sure, he insulted her almost daily and criticized her choices…but it was in her best interest. And when he was in D.C., he jumped on the first plane to New York when he had received her hysterical phone call about the nonexistent pregnancy. Vice versa, she had always helped him out with relationship problems and temporary career letdowns. Why was she refusing to budge at a time when she clearly needed someone—what had gotten into her?

She stopped rifling through her desk, having found the handheld. She jabbed at it forcefully, attempting to make it perform some task. Jack hid a smile, for at least Lemon's issues with technology had not changed. Liz looked up then, giving him a look that plainly said _why are you still here?_ He frowned, attempting once more to get some solid information on these strange circumstances.

"Lemon, what is wrong with you? I deserve some sort of explanation in the least."

The straightforward approach turned out to be a bad move. Liz's face went from irritated to downright angry for a moment, but she smoothed her features back into an expression of careful disinterest. Jack concluded that the robot front was way more unbearable than if she had shown actual emotion. She crossed her arms, causing her low-cut blouse to shift, and replied, "The writers are being productive, Tracy and Jenna are actually rehearsing on the sound stage, and things are running smoothly for once," she said, notes of sarcasm seeping into her voice. Her tone turned harder, and she went on, "Unless you have some sort of problem with the idea of TGS being successful? Because that would be interesting if you were somehow opposed to a profitable product."

At this, she raised her eyebrows at him, daring Jack to question her. In theory, it was a soundproof argument. Jack had always urged Liz to raise the bar; to crack down on her subordinates and manage them like a head writer should. At the same time, though, he couldn't help but get the feeling that Liz's motives here were not entirely for the benefit of the show and its employees. New Liz had an air of drive about her, and it would make sense if her goals were money-centric. However, without further information he could not make any verbal claims on this point, and so he remained quiet.

She continued, "Oh, unless you're referring to my style changes…?" Liz gestured at her immaculate self, then the room. Condescendingly, she stated, "Personally, I believe that you should be happy that I've finally got it together. I work out daily, eat 1200 calories a day, have a cleaning lady, and finally finished the rest of my apartment. I listened to your complaints and dipped into my 'To Use Eventually' savings for some socially acceptable outfits. My life has literally turned around, and while I'm not asking for your approval, I'd appreciate a little cooperation when it comes to the way I'm running my workplace now."

Jack was taken aback, for this situation was apparently direr than he previously thought. Liz, cutting back on cheese curls? This was a truly scary notion. Additionally, it was confirmed that the office changes were only the tip of the iceberg—clearly, she had remodeled her entire life. He sympathized with her loss, but wondered what the old Liz had been thinking that made her turn over this new, razor-sharp leaf.

"If that's all, I have plenty to do here, Donaghy. Is there anything else that you wish to discuss with me?" _Yes, why you have suddenly turned into someone that I don't know and am not sure that I like._

He shook his head at her question. With his hand on her door, he commented, "No, that is all for now. I'll see you around, Elizabeth." He raked her up and down once more, lingering on the heels. It was interesting that her crisis seemed to result in cultivating a person that Jack would actually be compatible with in his Upper East Side life. She was arrogant, intense; beautiful. The stubborn qualities that Lemon possessed could be put to good use in the business world, he realized. Her status as a solid 8 was certainly elevated with her now refined appearance. Overall, he now felt a pull towards her that rivaled the force of gravity. Possibly, it had always existed, and he was only realizing it just now. With that, he left, vowing to discover her true reasoning behind the changes, hoping that once he brought about the return of her old personality, perhaps her sexy new style would stick around.


	3. Chapter 3: Strong Resolve

Things were finally beginning to look up for old Liz Lemon—whoops, that's _Elizabeth_.

New hot bod? Check.

No-longer-gross shower thanks to Consuela? Check.

Newfound super work ethic and motivation to manage? Check, check.

Personal relationships? _Um…we'll get back to that. _

It was evening, and Elizabeth was relaxing in her apartment with a glass of decent-quality, celebratory wine (courtesy of her publisher). It had been a long first day back. She sunk into her new couch, flipping on the TiVo to catch up on Top Chef. She wasn't above the occasional guilty pleasure, and she relished this part of her fulfilling, but tiring days. Zoning out to the comforting sizzle of saucepans, she mulled over the events of that day.

-.-.-.-.-

Elizabeth had had a good morning. The crisp, late summer air of her six-am jog woke her right up, and she had been missing coffee less and less lately. She was early to work, and had a fairly productive morning once the loser writers got over her drastic changes. The brief but focused email that she had sent out a few days prior helped immensely, probably because the end of the memo stated something along the lines of "Question Anything And Consider Yourself Fired". Anyone who didn't take the email seriously was set straight upon with the shock of her appearance. Everything was going according to perfect plan, until things took a bad turn.

The aggravating phone call that arrived midmorning was merely a precursor of the stress accompanying Jack's visit. Looking into his startling blue eyes for the first time in months, for a moment she worried that all of the effort she had poured into crafting her new image would be for nothing. Seeing Jack was a harsh reminder of her past life; they had too many shared experiences, hopes, and secrets. He knew her too well. How was there any possible way that she could pull it all off? She had to be crazy to try and fool Jack. Jack, who understood her perhaps more than she understood herself, who appeared to almost see into her very soul judging by the intensity of his gaze.

His concern at her news was a tiny bit welcomed, and this was unacceptable. She immediately shook herself mentally, pushing any and all feelings into the locked box labeled "Jack". She decided that should she break, Jack would not be the catalyst. After all, she knew now that her life belonged to her. She had played the obedient puppy for far too long, and it had gotten her nowhere. Lazy Liz Era was over, and The Age of Elizabeth was in full swing. She hadn't turned into a perfectionist or anything—she was too smart for that and knew that striving for 1000% could only lead to eventual relapse. No, she would just try her hardest to come out on top and produce the best results possible.

After Jack had left, she shut the door and gave herself a mental pep talk.

_Pull it together, Elizabeth._

She recited her mantra. _You are strong, motivated, independent, and fucking sexy. _

Next, a situational reminder. _You built yourself up, and you are the only person who can be responsible for the next move. No one, whether relative or stranger, will ever knock you down._

Finally, an extra coat of steel on the Jack container. _He was your friend once, and you will allow this camaraderie to exist if, and only if, it is clear that he will be of good use and not stand in the way of your success._

Satisfied, she resumed working. The years she had wasted were not going to be regained, and she had a lot of lost time to make up for. Her climb to the top would be steady, mostly silent, and a little bit sneaky.

-.-.-.-.-

A loud commercial brought her back to reality, and she decided that she had handled the Jack encounter fairly well. She had succeeded in establishing her new priorities, and was sure that he had gotten the message.

That early July, it had taken Elizabeth exactly two days to process the most significant loss of her life, save perhaps the Floyd situation. After that, it took three days to rethink her grand plan. Death, as it often does, brought on a wake-up call; she wasn't getting any younger, and it was time to start making things happen. After simultaneously crying and consuming every alcoholic beverage within 5 blocks, she wrote up a list of goals and details in one very protected document on her MacBook Pro.

It certainly was not simple to actually implement her plan. Between dealing with her parents' estate and Mitch, things moved slowly at first. Some things were easy, like hiring a decorator and a cleaning lady, and sending her brother to assisted living. But her body resisted the intense physical changes that she forced upon it, and she experienced withdrawal symptoms that rivaled those of a recovering heavy drug addict. Quitting cold turkey was a bad idea, so she introduced new regimes and cut out old habits as swiftly as she could. After a horrible few weeks that she did not wish to re-experience even in thought, it became clear that an old dog could learn new tricks.

Once she started feeling better emotionally, everything else began to fall into place. Her jawline acne cleared up, and she felt bright and alert. Thanks to her recent inheritance (not that her salary as head writer was so measly), she revamped her wardrobe according to Bergdof Goodman standards and had her hair done at a ridiculously expensive salon. She practiced walking in Louboutins around her apartment nightly, perfecting her Power Strut. Focusing on pampering her outer body was a good distraction from annoying thoughts like _why hasn't Jack called _and _will I ever have another goddamn Dorito?_ Sometime in mid-August, she stopped pretending to like exercise and actually began to enjoy it. Yoga was relaxing, really. And she didn't miss cheese at all (alright, that's a lie)…well, not enough to consume more than the dainty sprinkling on an organic salad. It was safe to say that substituting exercise for overeating was the smartest decision she had ever made. As it happened, the toning of her body brought on an equally hard personality, the result of employing all means necessary to protect her heart from further damage while spending copious amounts of time with the types of do-ers who frequent gyms.

Which brought her to… attempting to cut Jack from her life. She was too numb to call anyone when the accident happened. True, she could have called Jack after the fact. But in those dark days of withdrawal, she felt vulnerable. She was afraid that calling him would result in a relapse, and who knew what would happen in her fragile recovering-addict state. No, it was better to leave it be and deal with it when they returned to work. Part of her plan involved eliminating anything unnecessary or hindering to her success, like cheese and relationships. She thought distancing herself from Jack would be manageable, but it turned out that he was the chink in her armor. She recalled the way that his eyes had swept over her (a bit hungrily, if she wasn't mistaken). She had forgotten how blue his eyes were and how his voice always held a sexy rasp. Quickly, it became clear that if she didn't watch it, these strange new feelings could evolve into something potentially damaging. A romance with Jack—hell, even a strong friendship—could fuck up her plans. She tried to erase the memory of his hurt face and the fact that her bitchy behavior was the cause of it from her mind.

She prepared for bed, and fell asleep to the image of his piercing eyes permeating her subconscious.

**Author's note:** What would you like to see in this story? I am open to suggestions! Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4: Day Two

He found her in the studio the next day, overseeing the TGS rehearsal.

"Alright everyone, take it from the top! And this time, can we please try and remember our lines? I allow a certain leeway for improvisation, but REMEMBER WHO IS ACTUALLY THE WRITER HERE," Liz bellowed from her shadowy area behind the podium.

Jack watched as the band started up again and Jenna began to recite her lines, glancing at Liz every few seconds with a somewhat scared look. Jack was happy to see that he wasn't the only one affected by New Liz, and he had to admit that his job was made easier when her show was running smoothly. He approached Liz from behind, straightening his tie.

"Hey," he murmured. She turned, already annoyed at the interruption. He raised his eyebrows at today's outfit, suppressing a hum of appreciation. She wore a tight red blouse with ruffled sleeves that involved a barely-work-appropriate neckline. Everything was tucked into a tight black pencil skirt. Judging by her height, he didn't doubt that her long legs were wearing another pair of unholy stilettos.

"Yes, Jack?"

He paused. The first name usage was something at least. Perhaps she had decided to make some peace. He looked down, regretting this decision immediately. Well, he was right—_how the hell are those strappy things holding her up?_ He cleared his throat, meeting her expectant face.

"Would you be willing to do lunch today? I have some numbers I'd like to go over with you. You can pick the place," he offered. This was a lie; he intended to discuss everything but business with her this afternoon. She narrowed her eyes, probably questioning his intentions, but nodded briskly.

"Sure. I want to discuss my future here, and it's best to get it over with, I suppose." This iciness of the statement caused Jack to blanch for a second. He brushed it off, rationalizing that Liz could not easily leave the company, not without him having a say first_. _Or without breaching her contract. He didn't answer, instead scrutinizing her face as he attempted to guess the validity behind her cold behavior. He tried a different tactic.

"You're wearing your hair down today, Lemon. Isn't that rather unprofessional?" He smirked. Indeed, her glossy locks curled gently, falling just past her shoulders.

His efforts to push her buttons worked. Rolling her eyes as he walked away, she shot back, "You're drooling on your tie, Jack. Isn't that unprofessional?" He ignored this, calling, "I'll pick you up at 1, and I've decided that I'm picking the place."

-.-.-.-

He was at her office door, one o'clock sharp as promised. She was busy grabbing her phone and bag, and he took advantage of the opportunity to check out her ass unabashedly.

With Jack holding the lobby door open for her, they made their way out into the noisy street and into the company car.

"So, where are we going?" she asked. He provided the name of some French café to the driver, and they were off. They weaved through midtown, sharing a silence that was both awkward and comfortable. She mostly looked out the window, while he stole occasional looks at her. It was too warm for coats, for which he was grateful. They arrived at Chez-whatever, and took their seats.

After the young waiter took their orders, Jack stirred his drink and leaned back in his chair. He wondered where to even begin. Before he could say anything, though, Liz jumped right to it.

"Okay, so here's the deal. You've always reminded me—quite often I might add—that TGS is a dying show that's only audience consists of old men, hobos, and cats. So I've decided that this season will be TGS' last, starting with a "Through the Years" flashback episode…"

She trailed off, noticing that Jack was not completely interested. He looked bored, actually. Trying again, she offered, "I've been talking to my publisher, and a Dealbreakers sequel is in the works, so I have backup obviously—"

"—I broke up with Avery," he interrupted. She blinked, but otherwise looked indifferent.

"Oh."

"'Oh'? That's it?"

"Well, I mean, I'm sorry that you have to get divorced again…but to be honest, I always found you both to be too…overly compatible."

"I appreciate your input, _Elizabeth_, but for the record, she did provide me with a wonderful daughter and excellent sex."

She raised her eyebrows. "Just saying. Do you get to see Liddy, at least?"

Hmm. A question about his personal life. _Now we're getting somewhere_.

He sighed dramatically. "Fortunately, yes. Avery's career is her true child, and so I was granted full custody of Liddy." He brought out the big guns.

"I could have used a friend through all of this…if only there had been someone, anyone at all…." He stared wistfully into the background, watching Liz with the corner of his eye.

She ignored this, and called his bluff. "If you're trying to guilt me into talking, it's not going to happen."

"I just want an explanation behind your ugly duck/sexy swan transformation, and I'm willing to try whatever works."

She nods. "You could leave it alone. That might work too."

"Would it get you to talk?"

"I doubt it," she said.

"Fine. Would you consider rekindling our friendship, then? I've got some corporate parties and whatnot coming up, and I'm not ashamed to be seen with you now." He paused. "And you could do some…networking," he stated, appealing to her career-oriented mind.

"I suppose that would be satisfactory. Yes, I will consider your offer to strike up an amicable relationship." This was delivered with an air of detachment, as if his plead for the closeness that they once shared was nothing more than part of a business deal.

"Now, about TGS' lineup this season…" With that, the conversation was over.

They ate in silence, enjoying the sunny afternoon. Jack found his eyes wandering to her face again, tracing the smooth planes that were both familiar and strange. He lingered on her scar, contemplating. It was perhaps the only thing about her that remained unchanged, physically at least. He supposed that she would have tried to cover it up with makeup only to find that it would still peer through, a mark of the past. It was a minor imperfection, and yet it was part of what made her Liz Lemon. He was glad for that small scar, for it proved that somewhere under the icy exterior lurked the Liz that he once knew.

He continued to observe her behavior. She sat straight in her chair, but there was an underlying tension in her posture that made her seem tired. Her eyes subconsciously roamed around; to her salad, the room, anywhere but his face. He had a suddenly overwhelming feeling of sympathy for this woman, his Lemon who was carrying a burden that she refused to share. She had gone from a girl dependent on poisonous men and food to a woman independent from all of the wrong things, such as his company.

They left the restaurant, and he stopped her before they got in the car. He gently grasped her shoulders, putting one finger on her mouth when she opened it to protest. "You're my emergency contact," he reminded her before she could say anything. "I've had a lot of life experiences, Lemon. I can probably help." She frowned, but stayed silent.

"Just think about it, Lemon."

**Author's Note: **Well, there were some different things that I was going to do with this chapter, but it kind of wrote itself in a different direction.

What would you like to see in this story? I am open to suggestions! Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5: Slow Going

**Author's note:** Thank you to **mhd123** for your suggestions!

-.-.-.-

She was in the props room, going over the set list for the upcoming show.

"Hello, Lemon," Jack greeted her, speaking to the top of her head. Her hair was sleek and straight today, pinned half-up. She nodded, but didn't look up from her papers.

"What are you up to?" he asked.

"I'm checking props and trying to finish everything. I need to leave early today." Her response was cordial enough. He took this as a good sign.

"You do realize that as your boss, I should not be purposely made aware of you skipping out?" he raised his eyebrows, half joking.

"I have a date tonight, not that it's any of your business." She looked up then, fixing him with her brown eyes.

"What?" he demanded.

"I'm fairly confident that you heard me," Liz said patronizingly.

"Yes, I heard you, but you weren't serious, were you?"

"Of course I'm serious," she said.

"Well, fine. Where did you meet?"

"I don't know, at some swanky bar uptown. He works as a boss on Wall Street, so at least I'm guaranteed decent food." She smirked.

Jack knew that this date was probably the first that she had been on since the accident, and for some ridiculous reason he felt like he should be the one taking her out, not some stranger. Whoa, what? _Since when do I consider dinner with Lemon a privilege?_ He categorized the feeling as protectiveness, but in that moment he didn't consider Liz to be his "little brother" as per usual. No, there was something else there, lingering just beyond the edge of his consciousness.

Liz strode out of the room then, heading towards the hallway. Jack thanked god for the gray suit that she was wearing today, because those pants shaped her ass nicely. He had to hurry in order to keep up with her long strides; it seemed that she was always in a rush lately. Jack decided to use the silence as an opportunity to reflect upon her announcement. First of all, she didn't seem too enthusiastic about her "date"—this could be a good thing, but it could also mean that she was just purposely keeping him out of the loop as had been the case these days. Secondly, even though he had been initially upset at her plans, there was some underlying cause behind his unrest…Ah. It was the fact that this guy was a businessman. Probably an executive, like himself. Is that how she saw him? As a stuffed shirt who would take her to galas and buy her lobster? He fervently hoped that this wasn't the case, but there was no denying the weirdness factor of Liz dating someone that held a profession closer to his than any other guy she had dated thus far. It was time to intervene.

"Lemon, don't go out with this man tonight."

"Wow, I don't remember asking your opinion on the matter, _Donaghy_."

_Shit._ "It can't be what you want, that's all."

She halted in her high-heeled steps. "Since when are you the authority on what I want?"

"Since I've known you, which is quite a long time, in case you've forgotten. You want Top Chef, and cheese, and your Slanket. You want to hang clothing on your treadmill and run to the 7-11 for frozen pizza bagels at midnight. You want, no, _need_, comforts; humor, companionship. I simply think you're making a mistake in chasing someone who's not your type." He let out a breath.

Throughout his lecture, her face had shifted from everything between distant longing to quiet anger. She watched him coldly, and he was aware of a new distance emerging between them.

"Perhaps that was what I wanted once. It's all history now, Jack, and if you can't move past some simple physical changes, then I really cannot help you." Liz felt guilty upon seeing the crestfallen expression on his face, but pushing him away was for the best, wasn't it? She had decided that Jack would not get in her way, and this speech of his was not helping matters. So she turned before he could reply, continuing towards the elevators. He caught up with her as she pressed the 'down' button.

"I'm not mad that you've changed externally, Lemon. At this point I'll always accept your appearance." His eyes combed her figure, and she didn't miss the glint of lust that they held. "But I'm worried that you've changed the wrong things, too, like your personality, and for the wrong reasons. I miss you, Elizabeth, and I'm not going to get over that."

She entered the waiting elevator. "Things are different now," she said quietly. "I'm sorry, but there isn't any going back for me. It would be counterproductive."

The elevator doors closed, and she left him in the hall to decipher her behavior. Everything that he had said was true, although he figured that he could have approached the situation with more grace. It was easy to forget that he wasn't dealing with the old Liz anymore and that the new one was much less forgiving. He needed to be on his toes at all times, now, and he missed being able to relax around her. Lately, he found himself yearning for the complicated relationship that they had shared—sure, their relationship was still complicated, but it lacked the easy camaraderie that had made their friendship worth it. In the end, as much as he enjoyed some of her new qualities, he was still paying a heavy price for the loss of their usual routine.

He considered his other recently realized feelings—the ones that had crept up on him with about as much warning as Liz had given him before she changed. He was sure that they were more than just an aching for the old Liz. The pull that he felt towards her probably had something to do with the commanding way that she held herself, but he couldn't deny that it compared to the attraction that he had felt with Bianca and Avery. This feeling… could it be actual attraction, perhaps even love? It was true that he had come to view her as his equal, over the years Liz had certainly proved herself worthy of being his most valued companion. And it wasn't as if he hated everything about her now. Honestly, she completely fit the profile of the types that he usually went for when seeking a relationship—polished, sharp, private…and a little bit scary, if he was honest with himself. He considered the option of exploring a romantic relationship with Lemon, and decided that it wasn't a terrible idea.

Jack had not given up yet, and he firmly believed that a sound plan would bring back Liz's old personality minus the bad habits. He would have his cake, and watch it strut about in stilettos, too. And probably have sex with—_okay, the cake metaphor stops this instant. If and when I make love to Lemon, there will not be any cake involved. Period. _

-.-.-.-

Liz decided to wear the new copper dress; it brought out her eyes. Jack had been right about one thing—she wasn't really interested in this guy. Still, she hadn't had a night out in a long time, and she might as well make the effort.

She carefully applied eyeshadow in the way that the Sephora girl had taught her, sweeping the high-quality brush across her lids. It had taken a lot of practice, but now she could produce a decent look in less than ten minutes without constantly smudging like she used to. She applied a coat of mascara, and pulled the clip from her hair. It tumbled around her shoulders, still looking fairly straight, so she left it alone. The buzzer went off, and she quickly tugged her heels on. Grabbing her purse, she shut off the lights and went down to meet…Tray? Troy? Whatever.

-.-.-.-

He smiled at her over the candles in the usual handsome-guy way. Liz attempted to smile back, still trying to remember his name. _Ugh…what _was_ it? Trevor? Tristan? I should not try to plan future meetings while intoxicated._ She couldn't help comparing his blue eyes to Jack's, noting that they were nowhere near as clear or piercing. Besides that, he was pleasant enough. They made small talk about their jobs, but she was having trouble staying focused. Her mind kept wandering to her conversation with Jack that day. His hurt face echoed in her mind, making her question whether it was all worth it. Truthfully, she did miss him…she picked at her salad, pushing it around with her fork and trying not to tune out.

"…So, as I was saying… spreadsheets, blah blah blah… and then he goes, 'I thought you were in charge of this!' blah blah, I mean, what the hell, right?"

She laughed weakly. "That's ridiculous, um…" She winced, looking at him pleadingly.

"Todd."

"Right. Todd. I'm paying attention, I swear. You know how it is after a long day, though." She smiled sheepishly, it wasn't as if she wanted to insult him or anything.

"I understand. How's the feta?"

_It's roasted ricotta, dummy._ "Great, thanks. How's your…" she looked at his plate, only to discover that he wasn't eating anything. Whoops. "…never mind. Look, I'm really sorry, Tom. Todd. I'm sorry, Todd. I think you're great, and everything, it's just…"

"I know. You look like you'd rather be somewhere else. I understand." He threw down a few bills, and stood. He smiled kindly, and touched her cheek. "I'm sorry it didn't work out, Elizabeth."

She cringed as he left, because he was a truly nice nice man and she could have gotten some excellent risotto out of it. Her face fell as she remembered that she was off carbs right now, anyways. _Why does everything suck?_ She hailed a cab, shivering in the early fall air. She wished that Jack were there to lend her his jacket, and she found herself giving the driver his address.

-.-.-.-

**Author's note:** dun dun dun! So Liz can't stop thinking about Jack, and vice versa. She's off to his apartment, and Chapter 6 will be a major part of the story, so get ready!

If you loved this chapter, please hit the review button.

If you hated this chapter, please hit the review button.

If you liked seeing Liz eat cheese, please hit the review button.

Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6: Where I Need To Be

It was eight-o-clock on a Friday and Jack Donaghy had no plans.

Normally, this wouldn't have been an issue. Jack would be perfectly content spending time with Liddy, who was very good at drooling…and absolutely nothing else. He loved his daughter, who did a great job of filling the hole that Avery had left. It grew smaller and smaller every day, actually. Also, Liddy was the most adorable person he'd ever seen. But Liddy was at the nanny's apartment so that Jack could entertain the woman of the moment. Currently, there was no such date to speak of; there hadn't been in a while. So he sat alone in his living room, watching the muted TV and consuming some hard liquor. He was mulling over the Lemon situation as usual. He couldn't stop thinking about her date. _Is she having fun? Is he as big of a dick as I hope?_ He was thinking about what happens after dates, with a sinking feeling, when the doorbell buzzed. Lost in thought, he wandered to the foyer.

He opened the door, and immediately straightened up. Liz stood in the doorway, managing to look equal parts miserable and stunningly beautiful. He was glad that he was in his usual evening attire; a crisp blue button-down shirt and black slacks. He admired the way that short dress accentuated her endless legs. This, combined with the surely illegal pumps she was wearing, was not helping the situation occurring in his pants.

He met her tired eyes, and asked, "To what do I owe this pleasure, Lemon?" He wasn't being sarcastic. She couldn't have the slightest idea of how thrilled he was to see her, how much he wanted to soothe her obvious distress.

She sighed. "If 'pleasure' is a synonym for 'failed date', then you owe me. Or perhaps I owe you for being right." She rolled her eyes just to make sure he knew she was mocking him.

Jack raised his eyebrows, pretending to be surprised. He suppressed a smirk; because of course he had been right. He would rub it in later. First, he wanted to know why she was here.

"Do you want to tell me about it? Come in, and I'll get you a drink. Take your shoes off first, please. Mariana just vacuumed."

He looked down, and was momentarily distracted by the ankle straps of her stilettos. "Actually, leave them on."

She ignored him, throwing her purse on the coffee table and collapsing on the couch.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Jack." She gestured towards her beautified self. "I'll explode if I don't talk to someone soon, and I'm done pretending that you don't exist."

"Can you expand on that? I agree that this conversation is a long time coming. Really, I am glad if you have finally decided to talk to me." His words were completely genuine. She sat up, smiling unhappily.

"Thanks, Jack. First of all, it means a lot to me that you've been so patient. I realize that I've been horrible lately, and you really do win the award for Best Friend Ever. And even now, where you could be giving me crap for proving you right. I'm grateful that you are so decent."

He nodded, happy that she was finally going to explain things. "Speaking of which, are you going to tell me what happened tonight? I won't judge."

Liz shrugged. "He was boring, the cheese was excellent, and I couldn't focus. It was your fault, actually."

"How?" he asked, standing to go get her a drink. He walked to the kitchen, waiting for her reply.

"Well, I kept thinking of how I treated you. I was questioning whether pushing you out was worth my idea of life success—which I now realize to be convoluted—and it just got to me." She gathered heat as she continued, her voice rising. "I miss you, and it kills me that I thought you were something unnecessary that had to be eliminated. And besides that, I keep getting these… these _sexual urges_, around you, and I hate being confused about it!"

She was really bordering on hysteria. "Everything is just the worst, Jack. I try and try to leave it alone, but _you_ infiltrate my every thought and I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE. This wasn't supposed to happen!"

Though he was in the kitchen pouring her wine, he heard her upset words quite clearly and could vividly imagine the exact look on her face. _She was thinking about him romantically? What the actual fuck? _He carried her drink into the living room, and took a seat in the chair near the couch. She glared at him with her arms crossed. He thought carefully before replying.

"I admit to experiencing similar feelings," he said slowly. Her crossed arms were doing wonders for her cleavage, breasts barely concealed as they were by her revealing neckline.

"What?" she stared in shock.

"Just what I said. Lately, I've been attracted to you, and while I'm sure it has something to do with this—" he waved over her stunning figure, "—I'm pretty sure that I have genuine feelings for you that go beyond physical attraction." The moment he said the words, it was made clear to him that not only had he finally identified the mystery emotion, he had accepted it.

"But it seems to me that the feeling is mutual, Lemon. Is it really so hard to believe that I could be your lover?"

She winced at the word. "Jack, I'd really like to know if what I'm feeling is actually love, or even 'like', before we jump to that."

He barely made the decision before he implemented it. Grabbing her bare shoulders, he kissed her gently, but firmly. She started, surprised, but caught on and kissed him back. He was glad that she gave it a chance. Personally, he was shocked at how right it felt, how absolutely perfect it was to be kissing Liz, and why the hell had he waited for six years?

He pulled away, pouring every ounce of strength into the action. It ached to let her go, but they still had a lot to discuss and there would be time for _that_ later.

"Well?" he asked nonchalantly. She just looked at him blankly, shaking her head a little as if to clear it.

"Um…where did you learn to kiss like that?" Liz blinked several times. "Ugh, don't answer that. I forgot who I'm dealing with." She gritted her teeth, pursing her lips in what he knew to be her angry badger face. _I've missed that._

He looked at her expectantly. "Are you still confused about your feelings?"

She sighed, resigned. "I don't know. I'm pretty sure that I would like to do several things with you, things that make me really glad that you have a baby here to prevent them from happening. Where is Liddy, anyways?"

He grinned cheekily. "She's at the nanny's. So there's nothing to prevent 'things' from happening, as you put it so elegantly."

Liz looked at him seriously. "But really, Jack. Why haven't you said anything before now? Oh, right…" She looked down then, lowering her eyes in shame. "I haven't exactly been around," she muttered.

Jack placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. "That problem can be fixed starting right now," he said. "Will you please explain to me, once and for all, what happened over the summer?"

"Alright…" she replied.

**Author's Note: **Alright, so it's like a two-part chapter kind of. AHHHH they kissed. Please review!


	7. Chapter 7: Overdue

Liz ran a hand through her straightened locks. "My parents died, Jack. I felt the age-old fright that accompanies death, and I realized that I was running out of time to make things happen. I decided that from then on, I would work to 'have it all'. Obviously, I made some really blind choices. I'm sorry that I hid from facing you. I was afraid that if I opened up, I would fall apart…I was scared that everything would just go back to the way it was. I couldn't risk that." Her face hardened for a moment, shadowy with the memories.

He took this in, glad beyond belief that he had been correct—under the impermeable exterior lurked the true Liz, small and scared… "I apologize as well. I could have handled the situation better as well, and I wasn't always thinking rationally. You threw me for a loop, Lemon… you have no idea how happy I am that we're finally talking about this."

She looked at him, her expression softening. "It killed me to see your face every time I said something cruel. But greed continued to drive my actions and convince my better half that I wanted to do everything on my own. I was wrong, and I hope that you can forgive me."

Jack smiled then, and covered her hands with his own. "I do, Elizabeth. Hopefully you realize now that our relationship is as stubborn as our personalities, and that it won't go away just like that. Now, can we talk about why you never mentioned your infatuation of me?"

She grimaced. _Here we go. Just get it over with, dummy._ "Because I wasn't sure, Jack. Not only was I not a hundred percent positive about my feelings; I would feel ridiculous if you didn't share them. Really, though, I've had them for a while, maybe even years." She drew her hands from his, folding them in her lap. Her head fell in embarrassment.

"_Years_? Lemon, you should have said something!"

Timid brown eyes came up to meet his, and he was shocked to see tears in them. She swallowed, and then said quietly, "I really was afraid that you wouldn't want me."

His mouth dropped open. "Why in God's name would you think that?"

She shrugged. "Why do you think, Jack? You've worked with me for six years. Six years, and besides a few false alarms, in all that time you've never made any sexual advances towards me. Not once. Sure, we've joked about our relationship, but not once have you tried to… I don't know, put the moves on me. And I realize that I was extremely gross back before all of this, but still, doesn't personality count for anything?"

He was speechless.

"I mean, why don't you want me, Jack?" she said, getting angry. "About five minutes ago, I admitted to myself that the reason for all of these cosmetic changes was for your benefit. So that I would finally fit your standards. What is it about me that turns you off and keeps you from fucking me like I want you to?"

His hard on was back, roaring to life. He loved hearing Liz talk dirty. He doubted the Lemon he'd met almost seven years ago would have had the courage to be this confrontational. Nonetheless, he couldn't be any more flabbergasted that she was so unaware of how much he wanted her. Hadn't he just kissed her? Did she not feel the fireworks that he did?

She continued, "I mean, really, Jack, if someone like you - who knows me and is my friend - doesn't find me sexually desirable enough to act on it and follow through, then my only conclusion is that I must not be outwardly alluring to the opposite sex, at least until I can talk to them and convince them of my wit, intelligence and charm." This last part was a little sarcastic.

And that, he thought, was the heart of the matter and every bit his fault. How could he have screwed up everything so completely? Why the hell had he kept stalling? _Because you were too scared to even admit your own feelings to yourself._

It took every ounce of strength in him not to jump to his feet, grab her, pull her against his massive erection and prove just how wrong she was.

"Liz," he said gently, hoping she wouldn't take his lack of movement towards her as a rejection, "I can't tell you how entirely wrong you are."

For a moment, she was still. Then, she cocked her head. "Am I?"

"Entirely wrong," he confirmed. "A long time ago, we established some kind of line. I was your boss and mentor; you were the crazy subordinate. That doesn't mean that I haven't wanted you," he scoffed. "You grew on me, Lemon. Like a parasite, at first, sucking up all of my time. But eventually it became a two-way street, with me craving your company and input. You were—are—so unlike every woman that I've ever known. You're not _easy_. Every time I made you smile, I considered it a present, because it meant that my wit was good enough for you."

Jack continued, "Eventually, I began to view you as my equal. And even in your…bi-curious apparel days, I found you beautiful." He knew this to be completely true. Even under the blazers and baggy plaid shirts, she still had a figure; at around five foot four she was both petite and curvy. She aged well, always appearing several years younger. He had always observed this on some level, and yet he had never said anything unless she was dolled up for some event.

When Liz's eyes came up to meet his, the desire that she saw in his made her suck in her breath. "Really? I mean, I just keep feeling like I could never be as attractive as Avery," she mumbled.

"Yes, really. Lately, there hasn't been one minute that I haven't desired you," he admitted. "Good God, Lemon, even when I was still getting over Avery, I was reminding myself every two seconds that I was supposed to be upset about it," he ground out, his jaw clenching. "You were in my mind every moment, and in between trying not to lose it over your _outfits_, I was consumed with the task of winning you back before it was too late."

"And I never want to hear you say again that you're worried I don't find you as attractive as her," he shook his head in disbelief he was even having to tell her that which he thought was so apparent; "It kills me you'd even think that. The two of you don't even begin to compare." Jack waited a heartbeat before adding softly, "You're the most beautiful person in the world to me - in every way."

She didn't answer. He waited and wondered why he hadn't spent part of everyday these past weeks just telling her how gorgeous she was to him. The other part of him knew the reason why: she would have just pushed him farther away, and they wouldn't even be here talking it out.

"I know I've had no right," he continued, "But the worst periods of my life were the ones you spent with other men. I didn't then understand why you dating made me so testy, because my feelings were still dormant. Dennis, Andrew, Floyd... I wanted to have each of them surreptitiously taken care of, even though I sort of liked Floyd."

Jack took a deep breath. "It's the whole package I want, though, Liz. I want the lovemaking, the waking up with you in the morning, the shared lunches at that ridiculous popcorn place and laughter every day."

He shook his head, almost disbelieving they were actually – finally – having this conversation.

"I don't want the thing that I had with Avery. It was all lusty passion with no substance. I need you in my life in every way. So, I haven't 'put the moves on you' as you said, even when I realized how I felt, because I want more than sex. I want it all and I want it permanently. Our time is running out, Liz." He paused, staring into those dark brown eyes.

"Please, say something," he said.

He was relieved to see the small smile on her face and the clarity reflected in her eyes. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a huge precipice, more nervous than he had ever been in his life. "Okay," she mumbled.

What the fuck did that mean? "Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay," she repeated, then added softly, "Thank you for clarifying that with me. I am… grateful to know how you feel. And… I am pleased to know you find me appealing." He could tell she was processing everything he'd just told her, but he couldn't blame her: even he was surprised at all of the words that had come tumbling out of his mouth. Nothing like overwhelming her with the truth he'd been trying so hard to suppress even to himself. After a moment, her smile got a little larger and Jack could see a twinkle in her eye again. "So, I guess this outfit works for you then?"

He was so painfully turned on that his unexpected laugh came out short and loud. " Uh, yeah, Liz. Absolutely."

"Good." Sitting back in the chair, she resumed her crossed arms. Bringing her knees up to her chest, Jack got a good shot of her silk-covered area and almost wanted to explode. Was she trying to kill him?

Noticing his tortured expression, she smirked, pleased to know how much she affected him. It made her feel powerful, not to mention hugely relieved. Even though her view had been clouded in the past months, her true self hidden by her delusions of what was supposedly important in this world, she had suspected that the pull she felt towards him was mutual. She saw now that that one could not be truly satisfied with only material things, she needed human comfort and companionship.

She grinned at Jack, and he broke into a relieved smile. "You've never looked so beautiful to me than in this very moment, Lemon," he stated.

"You're not so bad yourself," she said, punching his shoulder lightly. They sighed simultaneously, the weight of the day catching up with them. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he draped his arm around her.

"What now?" she asked. Boy, was she exhausted. She closed her eyes, and hummed when he began to stroke her hair.

"Sleep, Lemon. I'll still be here when you wake up."

And she believed him.

-.-.-.-

**Author's Note: **It's not over yet! Thanks for reading.


	8. Chapter 8: The Next Step

**Author's Note:** Well, I attempt Jenna's POV in this chapter. Please don't laugh at my incompetence!

-.-.-.-

Liz awoke the next morning, and was immediately aware of several things. The first was an overall feeling of disorientation. Without her glasses, the room was blurry, and the bed wasn't hers—that much was made clear by the comfortable but unfamiliar mattress. She felt as if she had slept for hours, and realized that it had probably been her first truly restful night in a while. As she continued to regain her senses, she learned that the pajamas she wore did not belong to her…at least, she didn't recall purchasing a men's silk button-down. She stretched like a cat, relishing in the fact that it was Saturday. She felt oddly peaceful and light, as if a load had been taken off her. In that moment, the entire last night came rushing back. _Oh my god… Jack! _She sat up abruptly, blinking in the bright sunlight. Memories from the evening before began to rush in, as relentless as the sun beams streaming in from the windows.

_You're the most beautiful person in the world to me._

The statement resounded in her mind. Was she making this up, or had they really talked last night?

_I need you in my life in every way._

He had said this to her, and yet she could hardly believe it.

_I'll still be here when you wake up._

Well, that last part proved to be untrue. She vaguely remembered half sleepwalking to one of his spacious guest rooms, in which she was now definitely alone. Feeling disappointed (and a bit lonely), she took her glasses from the bedside table. She put them on, noting that her purse and phone lay on the small nightstand. Her dress was draped on a chair; her shoes strewn underneath. Liz yawned and reached for her iPhone, and upon switching it on, saw that she had a voicemail.

"_Good morning, Elizabeth. I regret that I have to leave this morning, but the usual work crisis has come up and I need to go smooth things over. Isa should have breakfast ready for you by the time you hear this. _

Here, he paused.

_Ah…I don't believe our little conversation from last night is over. Would you consider joining me for dinner tonight? Call me and let me know. Bye, Lemon."_

Liz groaned, collapsing against the pillows. Her brow furrowed as she replayed the message. Little conversation? More like the most mind-blowing discussion she had ever had. If she remembered correctly, Jack had basically professed his love for her. He had called her beautiful, desirable… Liz knew that she loved him, too. But she had no idea how to move their relationship forward without the awkwardness that (once) followed her constantly…even now, in her refurbished state, could she handle a mature, adult relationship for pretty much the first time in her life? She knew that it was her choice. She could have any life that she wanted, if she worked hard enough. It went without saying that Jack was a constant force in her life. Would it be so hard to change the state of their relationship from _friends_ to _lovers?_ Well, now she knew what she wanted: more than friends. The hard part would be actually carrying out the task.

Feeling a bit like a call girl, she shimmied back into her dress and grabbed her purse. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

-.-.-.-

Jenna Maroney was a woman of few priorities.

Stirring her low-fat mochanut frappachai thing, she sat in Starbucks, thinking. Her main concerns (in this order) were Jenna, Paul, Not Aging, Work, and Knowing Stuff About People. Perhaps at one point, Friendship had a place on the list, but over the past year, Jenna and Liz had sort of grown apart. This hadn't bothered Jenna too much—after all, she had Paul to keep her occupied. Lately, though, Jenna found herself worrying. She may be self-centered, but she wasn't blind, after all. She saw what Liz had done to herself, and it was time to talk to her…if not to catch up, but to ask the name of her stylist. Jenna shook herself, hardly believing her thoughts. Things were bad if she was actually considering taking fashion advice from _Liz_. It was definitely time to find out what was going on—it was practically her _job _to know other people's business. She dug around in her purse, looking for her phone.

"Siri! SIRI!" she shouted at her iPhone.

"I'm right here, Ms. Maroney. No need to shout."

"Siri, I need you research 'sexy iguana role-play outfits in the metro area'. Also, 'call Liz'."

"Done and done. Your results are listed below…call who?"

"Liz... Call LIZ, you miserable excuse for a servant!" Jenna had little to no patience for people, let alone electronic devices.

"Oh, you are referring to Ms. Lemon. She requested an automatic contact update from all names in her address book, and now goes by 'Elizabeth'. As for service, Siri strives to deliver you the best possible experience. Please file all questions and comments with—"

"Siri, shut the hell up and call _Elizabeth_." She was so returning this stupid phone first chance she got.

The phone rang, and Liz answered breathlessly.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Liz…it's Jenna," she began tentatively. "Are you alright? You sound out of breath."

"I'm fine, Jenna. I'm at the gym. What's wrong? Is there a problem at work?"

Jenna rarely got nervous, but the idea of Liz on a treadmill freaked the hell out of her. She tried to play it casual, though.

"No, no, everything's fine. I was actually calling to see if you wanted to do lunch or something."

Liz paused for a moment, then said, "Okay. There are actually some things I want to talk to you about. Where do you want to meet?"

"How about that little café on 51st? It's called Forant. I read about it in Us Weekly. But we can go somewhere else, if you prefer…"

"No, no, that's fine. Is one o'clock okay?"

"Perfect. See you then, Liz!"

She hung up, and slurped her drink, satisfied. She would get to the bottom of this.

-.-.-.-.-

Jenna stood outside the café, eyes shielded by her typical oversize shades in case any paparazzi tried to stalk her. She checked the time on her phone, and was pleased to be a few minutes early. Occasionally, being fashionably late was the thing to do, but today she didn't want to miss Liz's entrance.

She spotted Liz halfway down the block, quickly striding towards her destination. Jenna lowered her sunglasses to appraise Liz's outfit with a careful eye. _Tweed jacket from the new Rebecca Taylor collection; nice. Simple black highwaisted skirt. Nude Kate Spade Latrice heels. _Jenna nodded to herself, glad to have waited outside. If Liz had entered the restaurant alone, she may have gotten more attention than Jenna. Regardless, she waved to Liz, grinning.

"Hey, Jenna. How are you?" Liz smiled as she caught up to her friend, pushing a glossy lock behind one ear.

"Fine, thanks. How was…the gym?" Jenna raised her eyebrows, still unable to believe it.

Liz shrugged. "The usual. I didn't go to a class today… just took it easy. I was in and out in an hour."

Jenna realized that she was staring, and quickly composed herself.

"Well, I'm starving. Let's grab a table!"

The two women entered the eatery and took their seats at a window table. Liz dutifully ordered a Cobb salad ("No bacon, please."), and Jenna asked for the Shrimp du Jour. She opened her mouth to begin the conversation, but Liz jumped in before she could say anything.

"Look, Jenna. I just want to say that I realize I've been acting weird lately. I'm really sorry for the way I've been treating you. You're my friend and you deserve to know what's going on."

Jenna didn't say anything, just indicated that Liz should continue.

"My parents passed away over the summer. I had some trouble handling it…to make a long story short, I've kind of Extreme Makeover-ed my life, but things are starting to settle. I'm ready to be a good friend again, Jenna, and I hope you can forgive me."

Jenna was somewhat taken aback. Obviously she had noted the physical changes, but to be honest, Liz hadn't really been acting _too_ differently. A little bitchier, maybe, but Jenna had just figured that they weren't meeting their optimal ratings or something. Not that she wouldn't milk this for all it was worth.

"Oh, Liz. Don't worry about it. I'm so sorry for your loss." Jenna offered her best sympathetic look, then continued, "I mean, I could have used a friend these days…Paul and I have kind of been fighting, and it's been _awful_. You've just been so_ distant_ lately…" she fluttered her lashes for effect.

No need to mention that their fighting was fake, merely foreplay for awesome makeup sex.

Liz winced in guilt. "Again, I apologize for not really being around, Jenna. I'm sure that you'll work it out with Paul…you know that you two are made for each other."

Jenna sighed melodramatically. "Thanks, Liz. Don't worry, I forgive you. You can make it up to me with gifts. So how did Jack react to your…renovations?"

It was Liz's turn to sigh, but hers was truly weighted. "Speaking of that. I spent the night at Jack's last night."

Jenna gasped. "_What? _Tell me everything," she said conspiratorially.

"It's not what you think, Jenna. But you won't believe what happened…"

Liz explained the evening beforehand, leaving out some of the more personal details. Jenna got the gist, though, and by the end of Liz's recount, her jaw was on the floor.

"Um, what's the problem? Jack wants you; you want him. Six years is practically an eternity. Just _do it_ already!" she urged.

Liz had missed Jenna's bluntness, not that she would ever admit it to her. Instead, she rolled her eyes. "It's not that simple, Jenna. There's a lot of history between us, and I don't want to mess things up as usual before we even get the chance to…do it."

Jenna groaned in exasperation.

"Well, I don't see how you're having trouble going after Jack. I mean, face it, Liz. You're hot now."

There was no denying it. Her Muppet of a friend had finally got it through her head that you would get nowhere in this world without style. Liz still wasn't blond, of course, but the highlights helped. And it wasn't as if she was aiming to be an actress, god forbid.

Liz gritted her teeth, but her response was calm. "I'm having dinner with him tonight. We'll probably talk more, because I kind of fell asleep last night." She winced at the memory.

"That's good. Where are you going?"

Liz shrugged, and pulled out her phone. "I don't know. When I texted him my 'yes', he just said, 'Pick you up at eight. Wear something dressy.'"

Jenna nodded approvingly. "Excellent. 'Dressy' is just a synonym for revealing, of course. One can only _talk_ for so long," she said wisely.

Liz pursed her lips. "Blergh."

Jenna knew better, though. She observed her friend as they ate, noting that Liz seemed to hold herself with quiet reserve. It was a far cry from the frazzled state that she was constantly in…however, Liz also had an air of excitement around her, as one does when in love. Jenna could only hope that Liz didn't screw things up. Despite the fact that Liz would be getting a lot of attention out of this, Jenna wished her happiness.

"I know you'll be fine. Let's do something again soon, Liz."

"Okay. How about shopping tomorrow?"

Jenna stared for a moment, but recovered. "Sounds good to me. I haven't bought anything pink in at least three days, and I could use some new boots for fall."

Liz actually looked enthusiastic. "I know! There was this great pair of riding boots in the Bloomie's catalog…"

Jenna smiled to herself as Liz chattered on. As weird as they were, maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

-.-.-.-

He was at her lobby, eight o' clock as promised.

"You look wonderful, Liz." Wonderful didn't even begin to cover it. He had been mistaken when he thought that there was no way she could top last night's getup. As it was, Liz looked ethereal in a deep navy strapless gown. It was simple, but the low bodice and sweeping skirt emphasized her figure in a way that made Jack want to skip dinner and head right for dessert.

"Thanks, Jack. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how handsome you are." She smiled sheepishly, attempting to mask her nervousness.

He shrugged. "Doesn't hurt to hear it."

Liz rolled her eyes. "You look ravishing, Mr. Donaghy." She was only a little sarcastic. He really did look good in his tux.

"I know." He smirked, and offered her his arm to help her into the car.

They arrived at the restaurant…at least, Liz thought it was the restaurant. Though she looked, Liz couldn't find a sign saying as much. _It must be one of _those_ places_. Suddenly, she was glad to have worn the Badgley Mischka dress. Obviously, this was the type of restaurant that was so exclusive, a sign out front with its name would be downright insulting to clientele. Liz figured that getting a reservation meant you were related to a president. Or that you were Jack Donaghy. She felt considerably cheered, because now there was a good chance that the food would rock.

"Welcome to Plunder, madam; sir."

They were ushered in through a discreet door, and Liz's wrap was whisked off by the tuxedoed man.

"This place is really snazzy, Jack. Good call."

"The food is excellent, and the ambiance is quite pleasant. I hope you'll find it…satisfying." He finished the sentence in his trademark raspy pause, allowing his eyes to drift over her figure. He certainly found her, and her cleavage, satisfying. She smirked at him, perfectly aware of the direction his thoughts were going in.

They took their seats in a secluded part of the dim restaurant, and a waiter lit a small candle at their table. Jack nodded slightly, and the waiter hurried off.

"So…" Liz began tentatively. Where to begin?

Fortunately, Jack had the chivalry to not leave her hanging.

"Lemon, I realize that I haven't given you much time to think about where we're going next. I'm sorry for that, and yet I'm still anxious to know if you've had any thoughts about us…?"

She exhaled, patting her chignon anxiously. "Not gonna lie, Jack. I've been doing nothing but think about it all day. Honestly, I have no clue how to handle the _idea_ of us being together, let alone the actual relationship. I know that I want it, though." Her face crumpled in distress. At least she hadn't changed her mind. For this, Jack was relieved.

His expression clouded and he reached his hand across the table, and she grasped it back with her own. He was glad to see the return of her true personality, be it vulnerable as it may. He didn't know how long he could have taken Robot Liz.

"Lemon, there's nothing to be worried about. We know each other well enough to have no grand expectations… nothing you need to feel weird about. It's just another step in our relationship. A new development, if you would."

He relaxed a little when the lines left her forehead and she nodded.

"We'll take it slow and steady," he said.

Liz leaned back in her seat, letting the bangs fall in her eyes.

"I know that I trust you and that we're really good at being friends," she said slowly. "But I can't help but be…I suppose the best word is scared. But not a bad scared, if that makes any sense."

Jack nodded. "I want to keep our working relationship as well, without too many things changing," he replied.

The arrival of a bottle of wine interrupted their conversation, and the waiter poured them each a glass. He took their orders, and left them alone once more.

Liz sipped her wine, and seemed to enjoy the taste. "Can that even happen, Jack? Can we continue to do our jobs with a…" she waved her hand between them, trying to find the words, "With a romantic relationship between us?" she muttered the last part in slight embarrassment.

Jack sighed. He had expected this; this was Lemon after all. She needed all the facts before she took action…her stubbornness, paired with her aversion to serious relationships, meant that this was going to be a challenge. She wanted to know that her daily routine was safe, because her workplace was her main comfort. He understood this, and he was willing to do everything to ease her fears.

"Alright, Lemon, let's be honest here. We're both workaholics, we live for our jobs. That's not going to change. I am not going to become some crazy, manipulative boss-lover who decides that you shouldn't be doing your job the exact same way just because we're together." He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of anything he could have missed.

"My feelings for you are the same now as they were a day ago, a week ago, a year ago. At this point, I respect you and your creativity in what you do, and that isn't going to change."

"Okay. That makes me feel better, that you don't want me to…I don't know, start being someone I'm not. Because I want this to work, Jack. I do. And I want to keep working with you." She paused, struggling with how to voice her biggest fear.

Frowning, she said, "I just don't know how to be a typical girlfriend. You know I suck at attending benefits and all that. I know that I've, you know, improved recently, but I'm still not a hundred percent certain that I fit into your scene, Jack." _There. I said it. I'll be lucky if he doesn't walk out right now._

"Lemon, you and I both know that 'typical girlfriends' (here, he air-quoted) have not worked out so well for me in the past." She laughed a little, thinking of his misadventures. "I just want you to be you. Liz Lemon. That's the woman I want to be with, not some perfect little Hispanic or French or blond fantasy, no matter what you may think."

Liz grinned. "I'm glad that you don't expect that of me. It makes you that much more unassuming that I will one day murder you when you cheat on me."

"Never." He whispered, leaning forward to kiss her. Jack could see from her expression that they had successfully negotiated the first twists and turns of this new phase of their partnership. The reality of it still rocked him to his core, and even humbled him a bit. He didn't doubt that what they had was good, what was meant to be. And he was glad she seemed to feel the same way. Being on the same page, finally, was incredibly freeing. The wait had been long, and it was all worth it.

Even though the feel of her lips on his was satisfying beyond imagination, he didn't forget why he had picked this place. "Would you care for dessert, Lemon?"

She sighed. "Why not. Gourmet always leaves me hungry. The portions are too damn small."

He hid a smile, and told her about the Lover's Delight.

"You're kidding me. It's actually called that? And it costs _how much_?" her face twisted in equal parts shock and awe while she tried to keep from laughing. The resulting expression was comical.

"It contains gold leaf, Lemon. And trust me, it's worth every penny."

"Can't we just get something normal, like cake?" she suggested, wrinkling her nose.

"No cake. No way," he said firmly. _Good god._

"Alright, alright. Jeez." She looked at him suspiciously; he must really want ice cream. "Hey, you're buying. At this point I'm up for anything,"

He nodded at the nearby waiter, and a dish materialized on the table within minutes. Two silver spoons lay on the plate, and they each took one. Liz raised her eyebrows, wary of any food that could cost a grand. It did look good, though. There were tiny chocolate shavings, and flecks of gold leaf gave it a shimmery look.

Liz had somewhat perfected the art of moderation, learning that some things were better when done slowly, something that had helped immensely back when she was beginning to stop overeating. Lifting a scoop of ice cream, she licked the spoon, tasting the chocolate tentatively. _Mmm, it's ridiculously delicious._ How she had missed chocolate…she swirled the cold dessert between her lips, closing her eyes in ecstasy and enjoying the sensation as it melted in her mouth. The gold leaf gave the chocolate an unusual but pleasant taste that she rather enjoyed. With a start, she realized that her tipping the spoon had caused some of the dessert to melt onto her fingers. _Oops._ Sucking the confection off with satisfaction, she was aware that Jack's spoon was paused in midair. Why the hell wasn't he sharing in the deliciousness with her? When she looked up to speak to him, he was staring at her with a slack-jawed expression.

"It's really good. Do you want a taste?" her brow furrowed slightly. A thousand dollars, and he wasn't even gonna try it?

"Ah... what?" She had the impression that he had become distracted somehow. His fingers had curled into his palms, and his voice sounded strangely choked.

"The dessert thing. It's amazingly good. I'm sorry for doubting you before. Don't you want some?"

"Uh... right. Thanks." He dug his spoon in hastily, avoiding her gaze.

They finished the Delight silently, both wondering how to approach the subject burning on their minds.

"Well, you seem to have a lot on your mind." Jack pushed back from the table. "I think you need a distraction, Lemon."

He loved the way her chestnut eyes took on a mischievous glow as she went from anxious to interested in a split second.

"Are you proposing any specific kind of distraction?"

"I might have a few ideas."

They traded a long look, the kind they'd been sharing over his desk for way too long without doing anything about it.

She leaned in and lowered her voice playfully. "You occasionally have excellent ideas."

"First of all, my ideas are always excellent, Elizabeth." Jack stood up. "And second—this is one of my best ones yet." He nodded in the direction of the door with more than a little urgency.

"Let's get out of here."

-.-.-.-

**Thanks for reading! If this chapter gets five reviews/comments, I'll post a picture that I drew of Liz's outfit from Chapter 1!**


	9. Chapter 9: Time

**Author's Note: **Here's the link to Liz's outfit from chapters 1/2 that I drew:

**tinyurl . com /6om9zqn**

(Yeah, it kind of sucks. Oh well. I'm not really an artist.)

For anyone who has a tumblr, check out my (mostly) 30 Rock/Liz/Tina themed blog at **nightcheesetime**. Now, where were we…?

-.-.-.-

They left the restaurant, sliding into the car as quickly as Liz's gown would allow. Jack barked her address at the driver, and they were off.

Liz's heart was beating a mile a minute, and she clasped her hands anxiously. To say she was nervous would be an understatement. She knew that she was making the right decision, but still, her heart would not _calm the fuck down_. Her entire body ached for Jack, and the pounding in her chest was so intense that she wondered if he couldn't hear it. She drew confidence from her love for him, but one small part of her couldn't help fearing that he would change his mind during the short car ride.

Jack observed Liz, appreciating her dilated pupils. She was fidgeting like a jackrabbit, and her squirming in _that dress_ was only making things worse for him. He was glad that the light from the street lamps created shadows in the vehicle, and he hoped that the darkness was doing a sufficient job of hiding his…distress. He couldn't wait to get to her apartment, but on the other hand, what if she wasn't ready for sex with him? Jack knew that it would kill him to resist her tonight, but he would do it if she really needed him to back off.

-.-.-.-

They arrived at her apartment, and hesitated in the lobby.

"Will you come up?"

Her face was neutral, and he couldn't figure out if she was asking what he hoped she was. Either way, he wasn't going to say no.

"Of course. Lemon, do you…?"

"…want to have sex? Yes," she blurted.

He raised his eyebrows, and nodded slowly. "I see."

She turned, but not before he saw her cringe. They rode the elevator up in silence.

Liz fumbled in her clutch for the key, cursing under her breath. She unlocked the door, but Jack paused, touching her arm before she could enter.

"Lemon…are you sure that this is what you want?" His expression was soft with concern, but his blue eyes told another story. They held nothing but his desire.

When she turned around to face him, he saw the answer before she said anything. Her feelings were written all over her face—there was uncertainty, anticipation, but more importantly, love. He saw their mutual love, now, and he could kick himself for wasting time doubting their desire for each other. Most of all, her face was alight with her resolve, and he silently thanked God for this positive turn of events.

She let him into her apartment, flipping on a light, and he let out a low whistle.

"Oh, right. You haven't seen it. How do you like it?" she asked.

"It's very tasteful, Lemon. I can't wait to help you christen it." He inched closer to her.

The game was back on, and he allowed his eyes to trail over her body. The navy number really did wonders. It set off her chestnut hair, and her pale skin glowed in the soft hall lighting.

She turned to lock the door behind them. "Thank you. The furniture is all new. And now I have a closet that several people could use as a bomb shelter, should the need arise." Liz turned back around, startling slightly at his sudden proximity.

"I look forward to touring even the closet, then…especially if there are more dresses like these in there," he breathed. He couldn't wait to strip the all-too-alluring dress from her perfect hourglass.

She tugged at the bodice, frowning. "The tailor kind of did a rush job. I think she left some pins in there." Their noses were almost touching now, their lips close enough to taste. He looked down into her cleavage.

"I do love the dress, despite your discomfort. It's almost a shame that you have to take it off." Jack placed his hands on her hips, and she gasped a little at the contact.

"I enjoyed our date tonight, Lemon…" he whispered.

"…and I'm glad you're back. I don't think I could take another sleepless night," he continued affectionately, his breath tickling her skin.

"I've been tired lately, too...although I feel pretty awake right now," she answered, a small smile playing on her lips.

His lips met hers briefly before he switched to placing kisses up and down her neck. Her head fell back without her consent, and she let out a little moan. The grip he had on her strengthened as he pressed against her. When they found themselves against the door, she stopped their kissing session and pulled away.

"Come on, the bedroom is way more comfortable."

He didn't argue, and allowed her to lead him through the dim apartment.

They stood at her bed, shadowed in the moonlight that streamed through the open window blinds. "Jack…" she smiled, reaching up to run her hands through his thick hair. It was ridiculous that he had hair like that at his age.

"I've always wanted to do that," she mumbled. He smiled at her honesty and kissed her once, placing his hands on her waist.

He pulled the long zipper down the side of her dress, and gently tugged down the fabric, admiring the way that it slid over her hips. When she stepped out of the garment, his hands fell to his sides on their own accord when he got an eyeful of her black lingerie.

"Wait," she said. While she struggled to unclasp her bracelet, he took a few long moments to admire her figure. She was everything he had imagined, and more. She stood in nothing but underwear and heels; and yet, she held herself with utmost confidence. She seemed to have left her shyness from a few minutes ago in the front hall. He had never found her sexier…again, he marveled at the progress that his Lemon had made. She had once been a social recluse, hiding her curves under unisex blazers and plaid monstrosities. Now, she had really come into her own. Jack liked to think that he had helped bring her out of her shell.

He began to pull off his tie and jacket, but when he tried to unbutton his shirt, her hands stopped him. He gave her a puzzled look.

"I want to do that," she explained.

He didn't object, and she undressed him with a lot more skill than he would have expected from her. Soon, he stood in only his boxers.

"You're hairier than I thought, but it's okay," she said with an uncharacteristic giggle, propping herself on the bed with her elbows. Her chest bounced with her laughter, and he watched, enjoying this new experience of seeing Lemon without clothes. Sure, he had seen her in revealing things, but nothing compared to unobstructed skin.

He was relieved to see that nothing weird was going on with her body, despite the rumors…rather, she was more than adequate when it came to meeting normal standards. He continued to watch as she reached up to unhook her necklace, and he nearly lost it while watching her breasts rise in the strapless bra, which was struggling to hold her in and not doing a very good job of it.

"Good God, Elizabeth…" This was muttered, and yet she looked up, questioning. It wasn't as if he'd never seen breasts before, but the emotional strings attached to this situation made the experience that much more extraordinary.

His voice had come out rougher than he intended, and she smirked as she caught on. Their faces drew closer, and her body was flat on the bed now.

She noted to herself that his use of her full name was incredibly arousing when he wasn't using it in anger. She looked into his eyes, and the alarmingly dark color of his irises was the last thing that caused her to snap.

She pulled his head the extra inch, touching his lips with her own, and he pressed her firmly against the bed, kissing her fiercely. She responded in kind, letting their tongues dance heatedly. His hands roamed up and down her body, from her waist, to her breasts, and back down until he was holding her ass, so sorely tempted to rip off the last pieces of fabric that separated them.

He paused, and she made a noise of protest.

"Lemon, I must say, you have a surprisingly intense libido."

"Yeah, well, it's been a while, Jack. I'm tired of waiting, so let's get on with it."

"Do you want to leave your shoes on, though?"

Her legs were wrapped around his waist, and as sexy as they were, the heels were digging into his back, making it uncomfortable. She hesitated. Could she leave behind her one last insecurity? Her feet were the one body part that no man had ever seen bare. He knew this about her, and she knew that he wouldn't push her if it came down to it. _This is the time for trying new things._ She made the decision, and shook her head.

"No, I guess I'll take them off."

His face broke out in a grin, and he nodded. "I'm very proud of you, Lemon. Here, I'll help you."

He quickly undid the straps of her left shoe; then her right. She watched carefully, biting her lip. Jack removed the stilettos from her feet, and she wiggled her toes with a frown.

"Lemon, I don't know what you were worried about. You have very nice feet."

She shrugged, and grabbed his shoulders again. _That wasn't so bad._ "Whatever. Can we get back to the fun stuff now?"

He answered by roaming his hands over her curves. She moaned a little into his mouth, and he could feel her damp underpants on his stomach.

"God, Lemon, you're soaked," he murmured.

Liz slid her hand to the nape of his neck, anchoring herself to him in ways she'd never allowed herself with anybody else. Jack was her metaphorical mooring in so many ways. She wasn't a needy person by nature, but the realization of how much she needed this man in her life as a permanent presence—needed his wit, his arrogance, his steadfast loyalty—overwhelmed her.

Her body tensed with anticipation as he teased her with his fingertips, stroking her skin in concentric circles. Her need for him grew with each circle. _Two can play at this game. _She moved her hands downward, and he swallowed a groan at the not-so-light touch she exerted on his chest, slowly dragging her nails.

With a start, he adjusted his position, and Liz swallowed as he knelt over top of her, his knees caging her thighs in. He kissed her firmly, and kept it up until she pulled away to catch her breath.

Suddenly, her eyes glinted, and she knocked him over. Now, she was on top, and he inhaled sharply as she settled more comfortably onto his hips. She could feel his hard on through the thin boxers, and she smiled. _Hello, there._ She made some instinctual purring noise as she rubbed against him, and he tensed further.

"Liz." Jack was aware that he sounded like he was pleading nervously, mostly because he was. Usually he didn't get this turned on until much later in the game.

She didn't pick up on his desperation…or maybe she did, and she was just being obtuse on purpose. He couldn't tell. "I like being on top, Jack. It makes it that much eas—"

He cut her off with a hard kiss, coupled with a deliberate rotation of his hips that knocked her off balance. When she wobbled in her precarious position over top of him, he carefully caught her by the waist and lowered her to the mattress beside him. Before she had a chance to recover, he slanted his body over hers, never letting his weight rest on her chest, and continued to kiss her. When they pulled away for air. Liz looked up at him, her face flushed. Her damp hair was fanned out across the bed, having come loose from its bun.

"J—Jack." He was slowly working his way across the hypersensitive underside of her jaw, sending her insides into a whirling vortex of desire.

"What, Lemon?" His mouth was obscenely talented, and she lost track of whatever her thought had been.

"Dunno." She moaned and opened her mouth again willingly, grinding back against him as he explored the inner ridges and grooves of her mouth, tracing her teeth, gasping as she sucked at his own tongue greedily. She sighed lustily into his mouth, and he couldn't help but smile. She looked absolutely beautiful, and felt so good against him.

She was growing impatient with their foreplay, despite his efforts to move semi-slowly, not wanting to alarm or push her. But slow wasn't what Liz wanted. Six years was long enough to wait. She moved one hand from his back around to rest on his side, where she traced her fingers lightly along the waistband of his pants. He whispered her name through a smothered groan, and pushed himself harder against her. She felt his growing excitement, and grounded her hips up into his, whittling away at his composure.

Their eyes met briefly in a look of mutual agreement, and they skillfully removed the remaining fabric from each other's bodies.

With a sigh, he slid into her. She fit him like a glove, so tight, hot and wet that he had to fight the urge to pound into her and release his rising orgasm. Her walls clenched around him with every measured thrust and withdrawal and his teeth clenched in an effort to hold onto his control. Liz, on the other hand, was past having any control. Every fiber of her being was focused on the feelings generated by the slow thrusts of the hardness invading her body. She felt like she was going to burst into flames and come at any second, the throbbing need in her core almost unbearable, but she wanted more. Her hips thrust upward against him but he tightened his grip on her hip, clenching his jaw and trying to slow her back down. She was having none of that, though. Reaching up, she cupped his face and turned it toward her. The dark fire burning in his eyes as he gazed at her almost took her breath away. He lifted her right leg to his shoulder and increased the depth of his thrusts. She was panting and writhing beneath him, each whimper almost sending him over the edge.

Holding his position deep, deep inside her, he reached down between their bodies and found her clit, swollen and needy, and stroked it firmly. She gave a strangled cry and her hips jerked against him so hard that she actually lifted his pelvis a couple of inches, forcing him even deeper into her tightness. He needed to come so badly that he could taste it, but not before her. Fortunately, at that moment she arched against him; screaming his name, her whole body tightening, clenching and unclenching around him. Soon after, he gave in, and he came home in one smooth move. After they rode out the final waves, they collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs, and he rolled over to lie beside her.

"Wow," he said with a satisfied grin.

"You can say that again," Liz managed, still panting from her experience.

"Thank you," he said quietly, pulling her to him.

"You're welcome," she said. "But you really don't have to thank me. It was as much for me as it was for you," she added with a smile.

"You were better than I'd have given you credit for, Lemon."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, thanks. I'm glad we approve, Jack."

"You know what I meant," he said.

They continued to lie in a spent stupor, thinking about everything and nothing. They cuddled together in the middle of her bed, him lying on his back with her tucked into his side, head on his chest. They had so many more things to talk about, the entire future to work out…but right now, nothing needed to be said. They just held each other and savored the moment.

-.-.-.-

**End note:** Thanks for reading! Next chapter, I'll post a picture that I drew of Liz's outfit from chapter 4. Please review—I love feedback of any kind!


	10. Chapter 10: Moving Forward

**Author's Note: **Link to Liz's outfit from chapter 4: **tinyurl . com / dyoq5et**

Yay, this is the longest chapter yet at almost 4,000 words. (Even though it's kind of a filler.) Jack and Liz talk some stuff out. Enjoy!

-.-.-.-

On Sunday morning, Liz awoke slowly. She had been having a great dream, though she couldn't remember the details. There was ice cream, and a bed, and Jack… she opened her eyes, yawning. That was when she felt sturdy arms around her, and her dream was suddenly very real.

"Good morning, Lemon," came his deep baritone, and she felt cool breath on her face. She stared up at him for a moment, blinking.

"Um." _Has he been watching me sleep? That's kinda creepy…but also nice. _Clearing her throat to tell him so, she shifted from her back onto her side so that she was facing him.

"How is your breath this minty in the morning?" she mumbled instead. She herself probably had dog breath. Despite that, waking up in someone's arms was always a comforting feeling. Especially Jack's. His gentlemanly gestures would take some getting used to.

If her morning state bothered him, he didn't let it show.

"How did you sleep?" Jack asked, smiling sleepily. Or maybe it just seemed that way, because his face was slightly unfocused to Liz. She squinted in the morning light.

"Like a coma patient," she quipped. "How 'bout you?"

He chuckled. "I slept like I haven't in weeks."

"I would think so, after how many rounds we had last night," she said smugly, remembering. Who knew that sex could actually be good?

"Well, it's true that I now believe what they say about the woman's sex drive intensifying shortly before menopause," he smirked.

She tried to scowl at this, but failed. "Is that a complaint, Jack?"

"Not at all," he replied, amused. _Quite the opposite._ _I owe Dr. Sanjay Gupta a thank-you card._

Liz reluctantly pulled away from his embrace, and reached over to rummage on her night table for her glasses. Slipping the frames on, she groaned when she saw the time on her alarm clock.

"Blergh," she cursed under her breath.

He heard that. "What's wrong?"

"I have to meet Jenna today. I promised her that we'd go shopping together. It's part of my whole friendship-redemption thing." She yawned, sluggishly shoving the sheets away. He frowned, reaching for her again.

But she protested. "As nice as it would be to lie here with you, Jack, I really should get going." She left the haven of the bed to pull on a robe.

He narrowed his eyes in disappointment, but didn't object. "Have fun, then. Can we meet for dinner tonight? I'll pick a more casual place, I promise."

She opened the door to her closet to search for clothing.

"Sure, whatever you want. I'm not gonna pass up free food," she called behind her. "Just let me know what time…oh, do you plan on getting ready here? I don't have time to shower, but I can leave out some stuff for you if you wanna use the bathroom."

He shook his head, and rose to get dressed. "That's alright, I really should get going. I forgot to call the nanny last night, so I need to make sure that everything's alright with Liddy." He stooped to kiss her goodbye, and grabbed his jacket from where it had fallen on a chair.

"I'll see you tonight, Lemon."

-.-.-.-

It was a windy day, and Liz pulled her trench around her as she hurried down the block to meet Jenna. She was almost an hour late, but least she had a perfectly good reason for being so. Hopefully Jenna would understand.

She ducked into the lobby of Bloomingdale's, and glanced around the floor. Jenna waved from the cosmetics counter, where she was spritzing herself with a shiny perfume bottle.

"Liz! What happened?"

"Sorry I'm late, Jenna. I hope you weren't waiting too long."

Jenna shook her head. "It's fine. What were you…?" she trailed off, and Liz looked up from unbuttoning her coat.

"What is it, Jenna?"

She held her index finger to her chin. "You look different, Liz."

"Uh…how?" Liz gritted her teeth in a nervous face, an old habit of hers. She did feel a little lighter, having finally done the deed with Jack...Was it possible that Jenna had picked up on that with her weird gossip instincts?

Jenna pursed her lips, scrutinizing. "I don't know. You didn't get Botox done, because I can still see all of your wrinkles. Or your lips plumped, because they're still really thin—"

"—Thanks, Jenna," Liz interrupted, rolling her eyes. "I didn't really have time to put any makeup on. Give me a break."

"Hmm…why are you late, anyways? You're usually a punctuality Nazi, Liz."

Liz frowned. "I just lost track of time, that's all. Can we shop now?"

Jenna shrugged, and let it go. "Sure. I saw this cool sequin thing that would go great with my fur leotard…" Liz was happy to let her friend chatter on. All she had to do was smile and nod occasionally in order to appear interested.

Eventually, Liz stopped pretending to be engaged in Jenna's trivial comments, and actually began enjoying herself. She had missed her crazy friend's company, and her mood grew better as the day wore on. Besides that, the reality of what had happened the night before began to catch up with her, contributing to her happy state. Sometime in the late afternoon, they ended up in the dress department, and Liz started to rifle through the racks.

"Who's hot, and you know that she knows it, that's her…" she sang under her breath. She couldn't remember where she had heard the song before, but it had a catchy tune and it was stuck in her head. She bobbed her chin a little, occasionally pulling a garment out to inspect it further.

Jenna appeared on Liz's side of the rack, arms full of brightly colored fabrics.

"Someone sounds happy," she commented.

Liz jumped a little, and ducked to catch the dress that had slipped from her hand. _If this were a horror movie, warning music would be playing right now,_ she thought.

"Oh. I guess I am," Liz said casually.

"Hello? Spill!" her friend demanded. So Jenna had noticed something. Liz had no idea how Jenna had resisted prying all day. Maybe she had been trying to give Liz some space for once.

She hesitated, but spoke before she lost her nerve.

"I...had sex with Jack last night," she mumbled.

Jenna looked confused. "I thought you guys had done it ages ago. I just assumed that—"

"—You were wrong, Jenna. Last night was the first time," Liz snapped.

"Sorry!" Jenna squeaked, but recovered quickly. "Well, tell me everything!"

Liz told her about their dinner, and (very vaguely) recounted the sex.

"…So please, just promise not to tell anyone. I want to be able to explain things to the writers myself," she finished. "If people find out through the rumor mill, there could be issues with HR."

Jenna nodded eagerly. "Of course I won't tell anyone, Liz. It'll be our dirty secret." She winked.

Liz winced at this. "I'd prefer if you didn't call it that. But thank you, Jenna."

"Don't worry about it. I figured something was up when you walked in here with that rat's nest."

Jenna pointed at Liz's messy hair, who patted it self-consciously. _Hey, it's the wind's fault.  
><em>

"...I'm glad you're finally getting some, Liz. Congratulations!"

"Thanks, I guess."

"How do you feel?" Jenna asked, in a rare show of concern.

Liz paused to search for the words. She was feeling a lot of things; things too private to share even with Jenna.

"Like I'm not alone anymore," she said finally.

For once, Jenna didn't add in her own two cents. She seemed to understand.

After a silence, she asked, "Are you ready to try stuff on?"

Liz nodded. "Yep, I found this black dress." She held it up. "It might work for a gala thing at the Museum of Natural History that I'm going to with Jack in a couple of weeks." Jenna nodded in approval. She would bother her agent for an invitation later, but Liz didn't need to know that.

They entered the dressing rooms together, where the attendant took their coats and bags. Once in her room, Liz undressed and pulled the silky material on. After wincing at her rumpled reflection in the mirror, she adjusted the dress and considered. _It's a little loose, but otherwise not bad._ It fit pretty well, and she felt a tingle of glee when she glanced at the tag. _It's a size 6. Suck it, haters._ It was still hard for her to believe that going to the gym _worked_, despite the proof. She continued to smooth out the fabric, and decided that she would buy it. It was a few hundred dollars, but she was returning an unused wallet today that had been a present from Floyd, so the damage wouldn't be too bad. _Floyd. I wonder how he's doing. It's amazing how much has changed since I last saw him._

"Hey, can you come zip me up?" Jenna called from her dressing room, interrupting her thoughts.

"Yeah, sure," Liz replied, opening the door. Jenna was half-wearing some sparkly strappy thing, but she stopped struggling with the zipper when she saw Liz.

"That's a great dress, Liz," Jenna said brightly. Her face was twisted in jealousy, and the smile that she tried to cover it with was more of a grimace. Liz tried not to laugh at her comical expression while she remembered the day that she and a fatter Jenna had gone to the bridal store with Cerie.

"Thanks, Jenna. I think I'm going to get it. I'm kind of tired, so this will be my last try-on. What time is it?"

She zipped Jenna up, who thanked her and grabbed her phone. "God, it's like, 4 PM! I should get going, I have to meet Paul later."

Liz nodded, and they retreated into their stalls to get dressed.

-.-.-.-

That evening, Jack sent a car for her. The driver apologetically informed her that Jack was running a little late, adding that he would meet her at the restaurant.

Liz rode in the back seat, absentmindedly messing with her neckline. She hadn't worn this dress since Jack's birthday party a few years before and it was a little loose. She sighed, flipping through her text messages to pass the time, and re-read the conversation that she had shared with Jack throughout the day.

**Jack Donaghy**

September 13, 2011 1:18 PM _  
><em>

**Hello, Lemon. Are you having funwith Jenna?**

I don't know. I think so. Did you pick a place for tonight?

**Yes, actually. How does Italian sound?**

Sounds like cheese, which means that I want to go to there. What should I wear?

**Something nice, but no need to go all out like last night. Not that I had a problem with it.**

**By the way, I've missed your catchphrases.**

Thank you. I have a booklet full of them. I'm working on patents.…Something nice? Being your date is hard work, Jack. A girl has standards to fill.

**Lemon, the only thing I want you to be is yourself. Unless we're in public.**

Oops, guess I have to pick something besides the Pajama Jeans that I was going to wear tonight. Damn it.

**I'm going to let that one go. See you tonight.**

It's not my fault that you can't handle The Lizard!

-.-.-.-

Jack watched as Juan helped Liz out of the car, and felt his shoulders relax merely at her presence. It had been a long day—he had finished his divorce settlement with Avery, and he was eager to blow off some steam.

He kissed her hello, and she smiled shyly. "How was your day, Jack?" she asked in a fake housewife voice.

"Long," he sighed. "I'll tell you about it over dinner."

Jack watched as she took her coat off and draped it on the back of her chair, and swallowed when he saw her dress. It was simple enough; a black knee-length shift with three-quarter sleeves…however, the deep v-neck and ribbon tied right at the bust meant that Jack had to work to keep his eyes level with Liz's. _Wait a minute…it looks familiar._

"Lemon, have I seen you in this dress before?" He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew that it was connected to a significant memory.

She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I wore it to your 50th birthday party. I'm surprised you remember."

_What happens to us? _he had asked her that night, feeling dejected that his party had been so disastrous.

_We grow up,_ she'd replied, feeling bitter herself from Dennis and Jenna's revelation earlier that day.

_I have a good life, but I'll never be that happy again._

He nodded to himself, recalling the evening. He'd told Liz that he had given up on pure happiness, and yet he'd no idea that she could someday be the one to make him as happy as that excited boy in the home video.

"Are you mad at me for being an outfit-repeater?" she added with an eyeroll, bringing him back to the present.

"No, no…you look great. I remembered it, because…" he cleared his throat, "…well, because, you were the only person that showed up that evening who really cared about me. And who I cared about."

Her face softened. "Jack, what do you mean? I thought your friends…oh. Right. The Adam West thing. I forgot, sorry." She gave him a guilty look, silently apologizing for bringing up the painful details of his birthday.

"It's behind me now, Lemon. I'm just happy that you came, that's all. It meant a lot that you listened to me and didn't wear a belted outfit."

Liz decided not to mention that the dress did in fact come with a belt, and the only reason that she hadn't worn it that night was because there was nacho cheese sauce on it.

They bantered easily while they waited for their meals, reveling in the return of their old familiarity.

During their entrees, the conversation took a more serious turn.

"I signed the last divorce papers with Avery today," Jack announced nonchalantly.

Liz nearly spat out her wine. "_What_ the _what_?"

He sighed. "Yes, it was very stressful. As if I didn't go through enough with Bianca. Avery got off with a few mil, which is certainly not a problem for me. Unfortunately, she rethought the Liddy situation, and I only have her every other week now."

Liz was still catching up. "_You saw Avery?_ Did you tell her about us?" Internally, she was trying to wrap her head around the fact that Jack considered a few million dollars to be no big deal.

"Lemon, relax. Yes, obviously I saw her. No, I did not tell her about us. I wanted to speak to you first."

Liz didn't know how she felt about this. Flattered that he was making the decision with her, or annoyed that he hadn't told Avery the truth? Not to mention that she knew how Jack's final meeting with Bianca had gone, and she hoped desperately that the same thing hadn't happened with Avery. On top of everything else, she didn't need Avery trying to jump Jack.

"Well, she has to find out eventually. I dunno, can't you just send her a memo or something?" she said bitterly. _What if she had pinned Jack to the couch with her evil hands and he was unable to fight her lust?_

He scoffed. "Lemon, it's not that easy. She'd be furious if she knew that I was with you this soon, if only because she was always suspicious about our friendship in the first place."

Liz felt a swell of pride at this. "Yeah, I remember that she always had a huge problem with us hanging out. I figured it was just female jealousy, but maybe she saw something between us before even we did. I suppose it kinda threatened her, that I was so close with you."

Jack nodded. "I think that you may be right. Now that we are officially divorced, though, she doesn't really have any pull over my life, does she?" He tried to smile. He was truly grateful for Liz's role in his life at the moment, and he didn't want to alienate her with his past issues.

Liz made a noise of agreement, and sipped her wine. He had given her a lot to think about, such as, what was _their_ relationship status? Was she his girlfriend? Man, did that sound weird. _Hi, I'm Mr. Donaghy's girlfriend, Liz. No, he is not being punished for something. _She shuddered internally at the thought of having to meet Avery at the various events that Jack constantly attended.

"Hey, you never did tell me why you guys broke up," she said.

"It's like you said. We were too similar…always competing with each other, never satisfied. A relationship shouldn't be a contest."

"Good thing there's no need for that here, because my speed-sandwich-eating skills are far superior to yours," she joked.

He laughed. "So what did you do today, Lemon?"

She frowned, aware that he was changing the subject, but she didn't call him on it.

"I went shopping with Jenna, as you know, and then I went to spinning class."

"Wow. You really are dedicated, huh?"

"Do you remember Dr. Baird?" she asked, placing air quotes around the word 'doctor'.

"Yes, the handsome one…what does he have to do with anything?"

"Well, when we were together, I spent some time in The Bubble," she began in a storytelling tone.

He nodded wisely. "Ah, you realized that the window of time in which you are attractive is fleeting."

She frowned. "Well, that's not really—look, the point is, I liked The Bubble. Good-looking people are treated better, it's just a fact of life. And so, I want to get mine." _Before it's too late, _she added silently.

Jack laughed. "Congratulations, Lemon. I know that you probably fought with yourself a lot over this. Your selfless side seems to have lost this time, with beneficial results for all." He eyed her cleavage, and she swatted his arm.

He polished off his drink, and they smiled at each other, enjoying the moment. Something around her neck glinted in the dim lighting and caught his eye.

He gasped when he got a closer look. "Lemon, you're wearing your 'L' charm again!"

She rolled her eyes. "Good excuse for staring at my boobs, Jack."

"No, really…Why did you decide to wear it tonight?"

She shifted in her seat. "I dunno. I used to wear it for luck, but I stopped when all of this happened. I guess I figured I didn't need the "extra help" anymore. But I put on this dress tonight, and felt really bare, so I just grabbed it. I've missed it too, you know?"

Then, she smiled sadly.

"It was a gift from my parents on my sixteenth birthday. Wherever they are, they probably hate me for trying to erase them from my life." She fingered the small gold plate, ducking her head to hide the tears welling in her eyes.

Jack touched her arm, careful to avoid knocking over the candle. "I didn't know that your parents gave it to you. I'm positive that they don't think badly of you, Lemon."

She sniffled, but looked up to meet his eyes.

"If anything, your actions just show how much they meant to you. You are dealing with their passing to the best of your ability…I'm sure that they've forgiven you for your temporary irrational thinking," he teased.

Liz laughed for a moment, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Even though they're gone, I have you, Jack. I don't feel like I'm so alone."

He stayed silent, and she panicked.

"I've just scared you off with my emotional issues, haven't I?"

She cautiously opened her eyes, afraid of his answer. He surveyed her calmly.

"Liz, I am perfectly aware that there are very few things that _aren't_ wrong with you. I knew that signing up, and I'm not about to back out now."

She let out a breath. "Whew. I'm glad to hear that. You're not so perfect yourself, big guy."

He widened his eyes dramatically. "Is that any way to talk to the man paying for your food?"

"Speaking of which, the eggplant parm was really delicious, Jack. You have really, really good taste in restaurants." She smiled sweetly, laying on the charm.

"Thank you, Lemon. I'm glad to see you're enjoying it." Indeed, she had finished her entire plate, and part of his stuffed shells.

She frowned. "Although if you keep taking me out like this, I am going to get fat, Jack."

He leaned in until he was centimeters from her face. "Then there will be more of you to love," he rasped.

They kissed for a few moments, and she pulled away.

"Well, next time, I'll cook at my place. I make a really good Hot Pockets lasagna," she deadpanned.

Jack made a face. "Way to ruin the moment, Lemon. Please tell me you're joking."

She smiled evilly. "I guess you'll just have to find out."

They stayed chatting long after their plates were taken away, talking about random things and just enjoying the evening. Suddenly, Liz's phone rang.

She looked at the caller I.D. "It's Floyd," she frowned. Jack shrugged, and she answered.

"Hello?...Hey, Floyd, how are you?...Good, thanks…oh, you are? Wow, okay…um, hold on a second."

She covered the mouthpiece. "Jack, he's coming into town with Kaitlin next weekend. He wants to know if we can get together…I would, but I'd feel more comfortable if you came, too. What do I say?"

"Lemon, calm down. Just ask if we can all go out for drinks. I don't think he'd mind if I came along, the Floydster and I get along fine."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Sorry about that, Floyd. Um, listen, that's great that you're coming, do you want to get together one evening while you're here? I really want to make up the salmon disaster to you...oh, and the wedding thing…Uh huh…yeah, Jack told me about a great bar…oh, I should invite him too? Yeah, I'll see if he's free." She grinned and gave Jack a thumbs-up. "Where are you staying…? Okay, great! See you this weekend. Bye."

She hung up, and exhaled. "Well, this will be interesting."

About half an hour and a few more drinks later, Liz brought it up again.

"Will it be it too weird to say, 'Hey, how's it going, sorry again for getting you drunk on salmon, did I mention that I'm with Jack now?'" She grimaced.

"We'll tell him together, and it will be fine, Lemon. He's married now, remember? I doubt that he'll be upset that you're moving on, too."

Liz sighed, but nodded. "You're right. I'll try not to dread it. Maybe I'll just get really drunk and let you tell him."

"Everything's going to be fine. Now, do you feel like dessert?" He leaned in, aware that they were both a little tipsy at this point. He traced her neckline with his finger, and she shivered.

Standing abruptly, she grabbed her coat and hissed, "My place. _Now_." He was happy to oblige, and he guided her out of the restaurant with his hand on her back dangerously close to her ass.

-.-.-.-

**End note:** Thanks for reading! Next time, I'll post a link to Liz's outfits from Chapters 5-7.


	11. Chapter 11: To Feel Like This

**Author's Note:** Liz's outfits from chapters 5-7 (remove the spaces): **tinyurl . com / cnozh99**

Well, I realize that this story has kind of gone off the track from what it was about in the beginning. I find that I don't really care, and because my desire to write smut and fluff about my favorite ship is being fulfilled, I'm happy. Enjoy, and congrats if you're still putting up with me! I applaud you.

-.-.-.-

The car ride home seemed endless to both Jack and Liz. The air practically crackled with sexual tension, and Liz tapped her fingers on the seat before finally breaking the silence.

"Jack, how long is it gonna be like this?" she blurted.

He had an idea of what she was talking about, but he wanted to hear her say it.

"Like what?"

"Like…us wanting to jump each other all the time. Or is it just me?" Her brow furrowed.

Jack chuckled. "Lemon, stop worrying…and believe me when I say that it's not just you. You simply need to give it time. This is new for both of us, and things will even out eventually, once we…establish a rhythm," he said.

"A rhythm. Hmm," she breathed. She waggled her eyebrows for effect. As usual, his voice was ridiculously sexy, and it was turning her on.

"Oh, for God's sake, Lemon, not that type of rhythm. Not that I…" he trailed off, getting lost in the depths of her eyes.

She smirked expectantly, but he didn't kiss her. Jack knew how quickly things would get out of control if they started, and he didn't want to do anything too risky in their current situation. That didn't mean that he couldn't have a little fun, though.

Liz stilled as his right hand snaked up her smooth leg, disappearing beneath her dress. She tried not to moan as his fingers reached her panties and lightly brushed the damp silk fabric. He felt her clench up in response, and when she spoke, it was through her teeth. "Jack, don't tease me like that unless you're gonna follow through."

"I don't make promises that I can't keep, Lemon. Consider this foreshadowing for what I'm going to do to you when we get home." He allowed his hand to drift back down, lightly tracing her inner thigh, and he was rewarded with a shiver.

Finally, they reached the apartment. The driver dropped them off, and they were alone in front of the building. The first autumn leaves were swirling around them in the wind and Liz smiled at the simple beauty of the evening; the twinkling lights in the distant skyscrapers. She was forever in love with the city, and tonight was no exception. She wrapped her arms around Jack's neck as he cupped her ass in his hands, and after hesitating for one excited moment, she made an appreciative sound before she closed her mouth on his. As soon as he kissed back, she parted her lips and invited him inside with a flick of her tongue.

Several heated moments later, she sighed and pulled away. "We should get upstairs before we end up arrested for public indecency," she said. "And besides, I don't really want to, you know, do it on the sidewalk …"

He laughed, and then his face turned serious.

"Liz," he said quietly, almost whispering, "I want to ask something."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Would you mind if we made tonight about you?" He tightened his grip on her waist, waiting to see if she got the picture.

She frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? I thought that you wanted to _do it_."

"You're misunderstanding me. I want to pleasure you, Lemon."

Her mouth fell open in an 'O'.

"Um…Are you sure?"

He chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure. You've been through a lot lately, and I just to help you relax. Can you do that?"

She wasn't usually talked into things this easily – but Jack Donaghy seemed to have the knack for breaking down her cautious and protective walls. He also had a knack for other things, it would seem.

"I think so," she nodded.

"Wonderful. You won't regret it, I promise."

"Uh huh…" _Oh boy._

-.-.-.-

Jack stood over the bed, enjoying the sight of Liz splayed on her back, nervously smiling up at him. He took in the length of her clothed body, allowing himself to admire her curvy form. From her sizable breasts to her slender waist, she was truly the perfect definition of a healthy woman. And she was waiting for him.

He wasn't exactly sure what it was about Liz that made him just about mad with desire. He'd been with countless beautiful women, but what he had with Liz contained both the typical lust and a connection that went beyond raw passion. He knew her mind and heart so well…But he didn't know everything about her body. Tonight, he was ready to learn her weaknesses; the spots that drove her wild, the feelings she could not argue with. He was intent on it.

Jack leaned over her, and brushed his lips against her ear lobe. She shivered a little in anticipation, turning her head so he had better access to her neck. He sucked on the sensitive skin gently and she moaned softly at his touch.

Kissing her firmly, he guided her until she was sitting upright, and searched for the zipper on the dress. She shrugged her arms out of the garment, slipping it over her head. Faced with the barrier of her silk bra, he released the clasp with practiced efficiency and pulled it away from her body, tossing it onto the floor.

Cupping her left breast with one large hand, he grasped her waist with the other. His thumb rolled across her nipple in a perfected movement and she closed her eyes in response, arching her back instinctively. His mouth descended on the now hard nipple, and he sucked.

_He's…ohh. Oh my god._

Liz couldn't really form a complete thought, not that she was in a position to do much even if she could think of anything. As he moved to her other breast, she gasped in pleasure and her fingers twisted in his hair.

"Jack," she breathed his name, and he smiled at her reaction. She was ready.

He moved his hands southward, and began to slide her underwear down. Suddenly, she froze, and tried to push his hands away.

"Jack, it's okay. You don't have to," she said breathlessly. She hated to stop him, but was panicking and didn't know what else to do. _What if he doesn't like what he finds down there?_

"Liz, I want to. Please. You have to trust me."

"I just don't want you to be disappointed," she mumbled.

He stopped, and looked her in the eyes.

"You're beautiful, Lemon," he said. "You can't possibly force me to believe otherwise, and I want to make you feel good." He kissed her gently, punctuating his statement.

"Jack..." She trailed off, not finishing the sentence because he'd clearly stopped listening, and had moved his head towards the area between her legs. He hooked into the waistband of her panties and slid them off, falling to his knees above her. He gently nudged her legs apart, and she moaned when his fingers spread apart her sex, releasing a trickle of her arousal.

He slid two fingers into her in one fluid movement, and her mind blanked for a moment. _Oh. Mother. Of. Thor._

His fingers expertly traced the walls of her core, probing gently. With slow, deliberate movements he thrust his hand inside her, his fingers searching for the perfect spot. He found it and she let out a desperate moan.

"Jack...!"

In one swift move, he tossed her legs over his shoulder, held onto her hips and buried his face between her legs. She yelled incoherently as his tongue speared inside her, working its magic. She was beyond wet…her legs were shaking, high heels dug into his back in an attempt to pull him closer to her. For a fleeting moment, he thought about taking them off, but for this situation he decided that it was far sexier when she was wearing only her shoes.

He was glad to have his years of experience; that he was able pleasure her confidently and in all the right places. Liz deserved nothing less, and he wanted to give her his best effort.

Jack continued to alternate between kissing and licking her sensitive nub while she squirmed around him in ecstasy. Soon, she could feel herself reaching her peak. When her soft moans became begging, he moved back to her clit and sucked hard. Finally, she was pushed over the edge and came, panting as it washed over her.

When she had finished riding out the waves, he kissed her gently. She smiled dazedly, and for a moment it was silent. After a beat, they laughed together in relief.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

She looked up at him, grinning from how unreal it all was.

"Thank you. That was probably one of the best experiences I've ever had."

Then she frowned. "Not that I have much to compare it to…"

"Don't ruin it, Lemon. And you're welcome."

She closed her eyes, and smiled. "Did you ever believe that we would be here, Jack?"

"Only in a crazy world would I have thought it, Lemon. I suppose that says something about the stability of our planet."

"I'm glad for it. You're really good at this sex stuff."

He chuckled modestly. "Thank you. I'm glad you're happy."

She sighed contentedly. "You have no idea."

They laid side-by-side on top of the comforter in silence, until Liz groaned.

"Ugh, tomorrow's Monday. We have to go to work." She said the word as if it were poisonous.

"Hard to believe that the world doesn't stop for us, does it?"

"I know….look, I'm not sure that I want to tell the nerds about us yet. Jenna already knows…I doubt she'll keep quiet, but she seemed pretty sincere when I asked her not to tell…"

Jack could feel her tensing up beside him, and he wasn't about to allow his efforts to relax her go to waste. He shifted onto his side, and kissed her cheek gently.

"Lemon, don't overthink it. You can make an announcement when you feel like it."

"Gahh, whatever. I just wish that we could stay in bed for another day or so."

He chuckled in the darkness. "Ordering breakfast in bed would be…very satisfying. I'll look into booking us a weekend away sometime soon. Get out of New York for a while."

Liz was quiet for a moment. _A mini-vacation, already?_ She wasn't against the idea, so to speak, but she couldn't help feeling a little scared…were they were moving too fast?

"Jack, what am I to you?" she asked, her tone sounding a little more desperate than she meant.

"What?" he asked, surprised. _Where did that come from?_

"I mean, what's our…status? Are we exclusive?"

He was shocked for a second, but then he figured that Liz had a valid reason for asking. She had known all about his Nancy/Avery situation, after all.

"Yes, I like to think that we are," he said.

He heard her let out a breath beside him.

"Okay. So are you my…boyfriend, then?"

"I suppose. Although the term 'boy' is rather…juvenile."

"No offense, Jack, but have you forgotten your rocketship toy obsession? The Funcooker? That sea exploration sticker? Must I go on?"

"First of all, it was a Student Argonaut sticker—"

"—way to prove my point—"

"—and it was given to me by the highly intelligent Dr. Bobert Ballard."

She chuckled, and then her laugh turned into a yawn.

"It must be really late. Will you stay the night, Jack?"

He smiled. "I will if you want me to. Although it is technically very early morning, which means that I have already 'stayed the night'."

"Ha, ha. Very funny."

"Lemon, do you mind if I change into something more comfortable?"

"What do you…? Oh."

He had left the bed and begun to remove his clothing. When he was in only his boxers, he folded her comforter back.

"After you."

She scooted under the sheets and pulled them over herself, suddenly self-conscious.

"Um, would you mind grabbing my pajamas, Jack? They should be on the chair…" she said, not meeting his eyes.

He shook his head in wonder, constantly surprised each time he discovered a new side to Liz. She could be so confident one moment, without a care in the world, but her sudden shyness was endearing, too. She was more complex than people gave her credit for, putting on a hard face for her peers, but really was just as human as the rest of them. Jack was thrilled that she was comfortable enough around him to be herself, and he couldn't wait to discover more of her qualities.

"Thanks," she said when he tossed her the t-shirt and shorts.

"'Night, Jack."

"Good night, Lemon."

Liz leaned over to set her alarm clock. He climbed into the bed, and they drifted off together.

-.-.-.-

The next day, Liz got up after hitting the snooze button for the umpteenth time.The wonderful smell of coffee finally got her up, and she drifted into the kitchen as if she were being summoned by a wizard. So much for the 'no caffeine' rule.

"Good morning," said the suit standing in her kitchen, his back to her as he rooted around in the cabinets. She rubbed her eyes, and yawned.

"G'morning…when did you…? Never mind." Apparently, he had the power to conjure suits out of thin air. Or maybe he had just had Jonathon drop one off for him. Whatever.

"Special K cereal? Granola bars? What is this crap, Lemon?"

"Sorr-y," she said, dragging out the word. "I haven't been into breakfast much lately."

He shook his head, and handed her a steaming cup of espresso.

"This is tragic, Lemon. When was the last time you had bacon...or _ham_?" he asked, eyes wide.

She rolled her eyes. "Thank you for making coffee, Jack." She took a few sips, then gasped when she saw the time on the microwave.

"Crap, I have to get ready! Don't leave yet, I'll only be a sec."

Liz hurried out of the kitchen, and Jack checked his messages while he waited. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the bedroom, tripping around while she tried to put a pair of ballet flats on as fast as possible. She wore the pencil skirt from the other day, and a fitted blazer.

"How do I look? I don't have time to straighten my—"

"Calm down, Lemon, you look fine. And I like your hair in its natural state."

She smiled shyly. "Thanks, Jack." She waited for him to add a remark about humidity or something.

"Although, I must say that I'm surprised to see you wearing flats. Soon, you'll be wearing plaid again." There it was.

She grimaced. "I'm kind of done with plaid," she said. "At least I'm wearing a skirt, though. I need to be taken seriously today; I've decided that I'm going to tell the writers about us."

He was surprised. "Really? You were pretty unsure last night," he said.

"Yeah, I just wanna get it over with…how's my stern look?" She pulled an angry face.

"Very scary, Lemon. They won't know what hit them."

"Got that right. Are you okay, though? With everyone finding out?"

"Of course. Oh, I suppose that I should say something to HR."

"Good idea."

"We'd better get going. I have a car on the way; will you be riding with me?" She nodded, and Jack guided her from the apartment with his hand on the small of her back.

-.-.-.-

Wanting to tell everyone and move on with her day as soon as possible, Liz gathered everyone in the writer's room right after she arrived. When the writers, actors, and Pete were all assembled, she stood at the front of the room and cleared her throat.

"Jack and I are dating," she announced.

Silence. Then:

"Wait, Jack Donaghy? I thought you guys were married already."

"Does this mean you're not a bitch anymore?"

"She wasn't really more of a bitch than usual."

"Can you get us a new samovar?"

"Why can't you say 'coffeemaker' like a normal person? But yeah, we need a new one. Lutz broke the last one when he fell on it."

"I didn't fall! You pushed me!"

"Didn't you and Jack have a daughter together?"

"Is he good in bed?"

That was enough for Liz. "EVERYONE SHUT UP!"

"Here's the deal," she said through her teeth. "Jack Donaghy and I…are dating. There was a complicated situation with a marriage, which we got annulled. No, I'm not going to use him to get you guys stuff, and no, we do not have any children together. Believe it or not, for the moment I am happy, and I don't want to hear anything about it!"

With that, she calmly strode to her office, opened the door, and jumped about a mile when she saw Jack sitting on her couch.

"Oh! Hi. Um…I assume you heard everything. That actually went better than I thought it would," she admitted.

"You're happy with me?" he asked, grinning boyishly.

"Wha—? Oh. Of course…you know that I am." She walked over to the desk, and tossed her bag on the couch next to him.

"Well, it's still nice to hear it," he said.

Smiling, she collapsed in the desk chair and opened her MacBook.

"Wow, I can't believe that it's October already," she said.

"Yes…" he said absentmindedly. "Lemon, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, what d'you need?"

"The nanny called me a few minutes ago. She has to go take care of a family matter in Jersey, and she's on her way over here with Liddy right now."

Liz nodded slowly, encouraging him to continue.

"…Would you mind watching her for a few hours? I hate to put this on you, but I have a meeting across town and I can't miss it…"

Her face lit up. "Of course, Jack! I would love to. I…I'm glad that you trust me," she said enthusiastically.

"Of course I trust you, Lemon," he scoffed. "I just wasn't sure if you would welcome the distraction, that's all."

"Well, I don't mind watching her at all. Uh…what do I do about her…stuff?"

"The nanny will be bringing a diaper bag. It will contain formula and other supplies…"

He gave her a rundown on how to heat up formula, and what to do if she started crying, etc. Liz was a little surprised at the depth of his childcare knowledge—she hadn't expected him to be so savvy about babies. She felt a bit ashamed at her assumption, and then allowed herself to feel proud that Jack was so concerned about his daughter's wellbeing.

His phone rang, and he glanced at the caller I.D.

"She's on her way up. I have to go, but I'll talk to you later?"

"Sure. Have a good meeting, Jack."

He exited her office, and Liz swept around her office, buzzing with nervous energy. She straightened the couch cushions and raised the window blinds, pausing to stand in the warm sunlight for a moment. After a few minutes, the nanny showed up.

"Hello, I am Sherry. You must be Ms. Lemon," she said with a bored, Caribbean accent.

Liz nodded, and wiped her sweaty palm on her skirt before extending it. When Sherry raised her eyebrows, Liz awkwardly withdrew her hand when she realized the woman had Liddy's carrier in one hand, and a diaper bag in the other.

"Sorry. Uh…I guess you could put her on the couch?"

Sherry eyed Liz somewhat suspiciously, as if doubting her ability to watch a live human being. Liz supposed that she looked nervous; she certainly felt anxious, but confident that she could handle this.

-.-.-.-

A few hours later, Liddy awoke from her nap, and began to wail. Liz looked up from her laptop with a frown. She hoped that she remembered how to prepare the formula correctly, and carried Liddy out the door to the staff kitchen.

Of course, she had to pass through the writer's den to get there, and she did not escape before being bombarded with wolf whistles and jeers.

"Whoaa, nice baby! Who's the daddy?"

"Wow, is that what you were doing all summer, Liz?"

"She kind of looks like you."

"Thanks, Cerie," Liz said sarcastically. Jeez, how dense were these people?

"Guys, this is Jack's kid. I'm just watching her for a while." Her tone sounded a little sadder than she meant it to, and she hoped that the nerds didn't pick up on it.

There was an awkward silence while everyone thought about Avery. For once, Frank didn't make an obnoxious comment. After a moment, Liz reminded them all that she wanted the sketches for the week on her desk by the end of the day, and they went back to work. Liz kept her door open so that she could keep an eye on them.

A few minutes after Liddy had been fed, the baby became restless again. Liz gritted her teeth, trying to figure out what to do. Finally, she decided to try picking her up and rocking her like Jack had suggested.

"It's okay…shhh…Daddy will be here soon," she soothed, lifting the infant out of the carrier.

The moment that she was settled in Liz's arms, Liddy stopped crying and stared at the face above her. Liz stared right back, utterly shocked at how perfect the embrace felt. The action felt comfortable; natural…as if she had been doing it every day for ages. She closed her eyes and smiled, breathing in the clean baby smell. She loved feeling the weight of the little girl in her arms—she was so _real._ Liz leaned down and kissed her forehead, then continued to stare in adoration.

"I'm impressed, Lemon." Jack's low voice brought her out of her reverie, and she met his eyes with a start.

"Jack! I was just…" she trailed off, taken aback by the weird look on Jack's face. He was smiling slightly, but there was something in his eyes that Liz couldn't figure out. He moved to sit beside her on the couch, and made a face at Liddy before turning back to Liz with the same strange expression.

"Hey, are you okay? You look—" She didn't get to finish, because she was interrupted with Jack's hungry hello kiss. Liz responded eagerly, but pulled away after a few moments.

"Um, Jack? Baby," she said, nodding at Liddy to emphasize her point.

"Yes. Of course. How was she today?" he asked, peering into his daughter's face with a warm look.

"She was fine. Great, really. I was surprised that she was so easy." Liz shifted the infant in her arms and then offered her to Jack. He accepted, sighing contentedly before answering.

"I'm glad. You seem to have really hit it off," he replied. "I'm going to take her home now; the night lady is on her way, and I don't want their routine to be interrupted."

Liz nodded slowly. "Right," she said, a little disappointed. _Back to reality. Well, it's been fun._

Apparently, Jack was reading her mind. "Lemon, you do know that you're welcome to come over and spend time with Liddy any time you'd like?"

She looked up at him. "Really? I mean, I wouldn't want to impose…"

"Nonsense. We're in this for the long haul, Lemon, and I want you to be an involved part of her life. Beyond the ridiculous videos that we recorded together," he added.

"What are you talking about? Potato chips are excellent on sandwiches," she protested.

"Yes, of course," Jack said patronizingly. "Remind me not you let you cook for Liddy once she can handle grown-up foods."

"Whatever. So…will I see you later for dinner? I kind of feel like staying in tonight. You're welcome to join me, I am_ so_ behind on Gossip Girl," Liz sighed.

Jack made a face, but nodded. "Sounds awful. I'll be there."

She watched as he carefully settled Liddy in her carrier, and gathered the diaper bag.

"Bye, Lemon. Say 'bye-bye', Liddy!"

To no one's surprise, Liddy didn't say anything.

"Bye, Liddy!" Liz waved with a grin, elated from her successful visit.

-.-.-.-

**End note: **Next time: I'll post a picture that I drew of Liz's outfit from Chapter 8. Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12: It's A Party

**Author's Note: **How great was the season premiere? I stuck a reference in here from the episode because I'm that damn obsessed with it. Not that I didn't love episode 2 as well. Thursdays are fun again!

-.-.-

When Floyd ended up cancelling his weekend visit, Liz was relieved to put it off for a while longer. Autumn wore on and she soon forgot all about him, instead choosing to focus on Jack. Liz's favorite ice cream flavor (well, flavors) became a staple in his freezer, and more of her stuff ended up in his closet as she increasingly spent the night at his place. For once, each felt content in their life at the moment…a feeling that neither Jack nor Liz encountered very often. It affected the manner in which they conducted their everyday lives, especially in the workplace. (Fortunately, in a positive way.)

They were nicer people because they were happy people; their happiness made them nice.

Lately, Jack had been dropping by her office with his laptop just to hang out on her couch or work. It relaxed him to escape Jonathan's watch for a while, and fortunately Jack wasn't as distracting as Liz previously thought. Well, he _usually_ wasn't distracting. It depended on what kind of mood he was in. When he knocked on her door, Liz no longer felt the anxiety that she used to when her boss showed up unexpectedly. In the past, a surprise visit from Jack meant that she was either in trouble for something, or he required a task of her, but those days were behind them. Now she looked forward to his visits (unless she really was in trouble for something, which definitely still happened). Occasionally they made small talk or banter, but for the most part, they just typed away in comfortable silence. Or secretly watched cat videos with the volume muted.

When Jack decided to drop by one Friday afternoon, they hadn't seen each other since the night before; Liz had left his apartment late in the evening to go water a vacationing neighbor's plants. As soon as the morning began, he had got caught up in his workday, and missed morning coffee with her…and lunch…and the meals in between. The midtown Sbarros guy was probably putting out a missing persons report right about now…

Jack peeked through her slightly open door, and saw only a mass of sleek brown hair bent over the laptop. Liz was furiously typing in concentration, and didn't appear to notice him.

"May I come in?" he asked.

She finished her sentence and lifted her head.

"Hi, sure," she said absentmindedly, and resumed her writing.

He sat in his usual spot on the couch, and began to compose an email on his Blackberry. After a few minutes, he noticed that something was different. He watched as she finished her thoughts and stretched.

"How are you, Jack?"

He ignored this, because he'd identified the change. "Did you get a haircut, Lemon?"

Indeed, it was bob-length again.

"Yes," she smiled. Points to Jack for noticing.

"Someone told me once that it's appropriate to get a haircut every two days," she said.

"Wise words, Lemon. Your—"

"—hair is your head-suit, I know," she said, smirking. "Write a book, why don'tcha?"

"Regardless, I like your haircut."

"Thanks. It was getting hard to comb. I don't have that kind of patience," she sighed.

"I'm sure it was nice to take the morning off," he said.

"Yeah, and I like getting my hair done. Having people massage your head is awesome."

He chuckled, and Liz exaggeratedly flipped her new/old hair, showing it off. Jack welcomed her familiar—and what he found to be quite sexy—'do. It really did work for her, as long as it wasn't too humid out. They went back to work, and the rapidly darkening sky affirmed that winter was coming much too soon.

Finally, she stood, yawning. "I'm going to go buy something to drink. Do you want anything?"

"Yes, I do," he said. He stood as well, and kissed her sweetly at first, but Liz broke it off when the kiss started to deepen.

"No, Jack," she protested breathlessly, pushing his hands away half-heartedly, "not right now. I have to be at rehearsal in half an hour. We have a show tonight, remember?"

"Mmmhmm," he murmured into her ear. The vibration simultaneously tickled and turned her on.

"We've got time, then. It's not technically 'tonight' yet," he said lowly.

Laughing, she insisted, "I need to be at rehearsal, though. You know that everything always goes wrong without me."

In contrast to her protesting words, she shut the door with her foot and eagerly began undoing his tie.

"You can tell them it's my fault," he growled, helping her out of her blouse.

"Oh God, you're so annoying…" she moaned, feeling his teeth brush a sensitive spot on her neck.

"…but I guess we have time for _one_ round…"

-.-.-

"Lemon, hurry up, we'll be late!" Jack called from her living room, straightening the cufflinks on his tuxedo. It was Saturday, the night that they'd be attending the charity party at the Museum of Natural History. It was to benefit either the homeless or the homely; Jack didn't really know.

Not that there was much of a difference between the two.

Meanwhile, Liz was in her bedroom, scrunching her face in concentration. She was attempting to zip the dress she had bought with Jenna and was struggling.

"One minute!" she yelled back.

_Argh, it fit when I bought it._

She sucked in her breath and managed to zip it up completely, exhaling in exasperation. Liz thought she recalled it being loose, but at the moment, there was barely a centimeter of space between the silky fabric and her body anywhere. She felt as if she had been poured into it, but it would suffice for the few hours. As long as she didn't eat or sit down. Or breathe.

Sighing, she considered her reflection in the long mirror. Late-night bacon runs with Jack were fun, but it was like her mother always said—_"A moment on the lips, Liz dear, forever on the hips."_ Liz felt a pang; not a day went by when she didn't think of her parents, and she missed them with all of her heart. The saddest moments were when she picked up the phone without thinking to call them about any little thing, only to realize that there would be no answer on the other end. But she had other things to think about right now, such as renewing her expired gym membership. Who was she kidding? The gym sucked, and yoga was really sweaty. _Oh, well._

Resigned, she quickly applied her lipstick and opened the door.

"Finally," Jack said impatiently, still fiddling with his jacket. "The car's waiting."

He looked up from his sleeves, and gasped at the sight of her.

"Lemon, that is…quite a dress."

She frowned, looking down at herself. "Look, it definitely fit in the store; I think that I've just put on a couple of pounds the last few weeks."

He didn't answer; just let his eyes take in exactly how much the floor-length dress clung to her body. The strapless bodice emphasized the cinch of her waist, and the fabric swept over the swell of her hips in a dangerous way.

She looked up, noticed his stare, and winced. "Aah, It's too tight, I should change…"

He shook his head, protesting. "No, Lemon, don't change it," he rasped. "Yes, it is tight…in all the right places, though." She blushed; pleased at the effect she had on him.

Smiling shyly: "You look nice in your tux, Jack."

"I dim in comparison. Shall we?"

He guided her out the door, hand on the small of her back.

-.-.-.-

"Jack, could you look over here?"

"Mr. Donaghy, sir, now that Kabletown is in the picture, are you still in the running to become CEO?"

"Smile, please."

Liz should have known that there would be a catch. Sure, parties had great food and unlimited booze—but there were also weird rich people; scary, extension-wearing socialites, and _photographers. _Photographers who obviously didn't sympathize with her current issues, which were a) attempting not to shiver violently in the crisp fall air, b) trying not to fall down the museum steps in five-inch heels, and c) going blind from the flashes.

It was very overwhelming, to say the least.

On the other hand, it wasn't all bad. Liz loved the way Jack held her to his side; his warm arm around her waist. He certainly helped make the situation more bearable. And this time if they ended up in the style section of the New York Times, she wouldn't be wearing a yellow poncho thing. Or sporting a half-finished haircut. She was so not going to think about that right now.

Despite the intrusive questions, Jack was obviously a pro. Not that she was surprised. He expertly answered each question in a strictly business manner, until…

"Who is your lovely date, sir?"

"This is my girlfriend, Elizabeth Lemon," Jack said proudly, and her smile widened a little.

"Wait, she looks familiar."

"Have we seen her before?"

"I think they were married!"

"This is such an exciting and important scandal!"

Liz tensed and fought the urge to run.

"Just keep smiling," he said in her ear. "You're doing great, and it will be over soon."

She sighed through her broad smile. "I'm doing it for the food." She fully planned on eating his meal as revenge.

Some reporter with an iPhone waved it triumphantly in the air, eager to show off his Googling skills.

"Yeah, it's her! She was responsible for the 'Jack and Elizabeth Donaghy High School for Teen Drama, the Arts, and Feelings'."

Suddenly, everyone's attention turned to Liz.

"Wow, she looks much better without the Laura Bush getup."

"Ms. Lemon/Donaghy, how is the school going?"

"Um…" she said, glancing nervously at Jack.

"The school is currently undergoing renovations, and will be open in six months to never," he said smoothly.

"Liz, who are you wearing tonight?"

With that, the subject was changed, much to Jack's relief. A half-hour later, he escorted her inside where they were immediately offered flutes of champagne. Liz gulped her drink—and she was gonna need _way_ more to get through the night. She eyed the platters of hors d'oeuvres while Jack surveyed the room; neither of his ex-wives seemed to be present, which was good news. He spotted Hank Hooper near the bar; Jack would have to say hello to him.

"Time to schmooze, Lemon. Luckily, dinner will be served in about forty minutes. Do you want a drink?"

"Thanks, I'm good with champagne." She grabbed some crab puffs off of a passing tray, and turned to see what he was looking at.

"Oh, if you wanna talk to Mr. Hooper, I can amuse myself," she offered.

"Thanks, Lemon. I'll only be a second, and then I can introduce you to some people."

"Okay, see ya in a minute." Only her mouth was full of crab puff, so she wasn't actually sure if he understood the last part.

Jack approached the bar, and ordered his usual. Striking up a casual conversation with Hank, he picked an easy topic so that he could focus on observing Liz as she mingled.

She really sparkled tonight, despite her discomfort. He watched as she made her way across the room, her long dress shimmering under the soft light of the chandeliers, flowing over every delicate curve of her body. She smiled as she chatted, capable of talking to just about anyone, whether or not she knew him or her. It was just another aspect that added to her appeal. Occasionally, someone would get a little close; brushing her arm. Jack's eyes narrowed, but he stayed put. Liz could take care of herself.

Jack thought back to Gerhardt's party, musing about how much had happened between himself and Lemon since that night. He was truly glad that he had taken the leap with her; from mentor and mentee to friends, to a couple. Of course, she was still a challenge to him. As much as she aggravated him, he found her fascinating. As much as she argued with him, he couldn't stay away from her. This had been true since almost the very day he had met her, and finally he'd fallen for the one person who frustrated him like no other. Maybe part of her draw was the fact that she was possibly the most genuine person he'd ever met. While her tendency to speak her mind and heart at inappropriate times was both admirable and infuriating, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Eventually he was able to escape Hank, and he found Liz talking to some Broadway producers who were getting way too flirty. Slipping an arm around her waist, he cut in when one of the men paused.

"Nice to meet you, gentlemen, but Liz, we have to go say hello to the Kabletown executives now."

They made their exit, and she frowned at him suspiciously.

"Hey, what gives? Those guys were interesting. They invited me to an upcoming special performance of _Annie_—"

"I'm sure they did. And I'm sure that the phone numbers they gave you were for the 'box office'," he said, air quoting.

"Well…" she frowned.

"Exactly."

There was a beat, and then her mouth popped open.

"You're jealous of them!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Jea-lous," she gloated.

He decided to play nonchalant. "Perhaps you're right," he shrugged. God, she was cute when she thought she was right.

She was still smirking when they were interrupted. "More crab puffs, Liz?"

She sheepishly shook her head at the server as Jack rolled his eyes. Maybe she should slow down on the appetizers, because being on a first-name basis with the wait staff was not going to help her attempts to achieve _class-and-elegance, Lemon_.

As Jack introduced her to suit after suit, she produced a mix of charm and wit, occasionally irking Jack with her sarcasm. Served him right for putting her through this.

"…She's breathtaking, Jack."

"I couldn't agree more, Howardson," Jack beamed while Liz nodded somberly.

"Yes, the doctors did an excellent job with my full-body reconstruction. Take my advice: don't try to pilot a helicopter without a license. Skin grafts are really pain—"

"—Excuse us, gentlemen. Elizabeth and I must speak to someone before we're seated for dinner," he interrupted, and promptly whisked her into a nearby corner.

"Is it possible for you to behave like a woman tonight?" he growled.

"What?" she ignored his glare, blinking innocently. "I'm just having some fun. Effortlessly winning over the room. You know, the usual."

"Well, cut it out," he said sternly.

"Relax. They love me. 'Attractive and funny, well done, Donaghy'," she mimicked in a comical attempt at a masculine voice.

"Yes, not for long if you don't stop with the obscene comments. You'd be surprised at how many of these people can't take a joke."

"Whatever. This is me, and you have to decide whether you want the whole package, or nothing at all," she shrugged.

"You're right," he said after a while. "I'm sorry; I suppose I'm just stressed. I'm an asshat, forgive me."

"I suppose; because you're a decent-looking asshat," she smiled, pecking him on the lips.

_Crab breath,_ he muttered in her ear on the way to their table, and she quickly pinched his ass.

Payback.

A few hours and a lot more alcohol later, the room was on their feet as couples spun to Sinatra and to Jack's amazement, Liz was eager to dance this time.

Although the amount of champagne that she'd had may have contributed to her enthusiasm.

Either way, they joined the others on the floor and were immediately swept up in the fast beat. They had only ever slow danced together, and due to her everyday clumsiness, Jack was not expecting Liz to be nimble on her feet. So when it turned out to be quite true, he couldn't help remarking.

"Would you like to explain this sudden talent of yours, Lemon?" he shouted over the live band.

"Competitive jazz scholarship, remember? I can have rhythm when I feel like it," she replied smugly. He spun her out, and she lifted her arm gracefully.

"Well, you're fairly good at this," he said with poorly masked surprise. If she wasn't mistaken, he was even impressed. She decided to keep her 6-month stint with the Timeless Torches to herself; she could spring that on him later.

"You're fairly bad at compliments," she shot back instead.

He responded by dipping her backwards, and she laughed. The song ended, and he pulled her back up for a kiss. They made out for a moment, but didn't get very far, because a blond woman with a furious expression suddenly appeared in Liz's sight. Uh oh.

"Jack, what is _she _doing here_?_"

-.-.-


	13. Chapter 13: Funny Thing

"Jack, what is _she _doing here_?_"

Jack had never seen Avery Jessup so livid, her face only a few shades pinker than the revealing scarlet dress that she wore, and she was practically glaring a hole in the wall. He still held Liz, unaware that he was gripping her so hard until she muttered, _ow, Jack_. He loosened his hold on her waist, but didn't let go completely—Avery had an I'm-going-to-pull-someone's-hair look in her eyes and Jack did _not _feel like sending Liz down that road again.

"Hello, Avery. How pleasant to see you again," he said dryly, and resisted the urge to strangle her for tainting their evening.

"I asked a question. What did you do, bang her five minutes after we signed the papers?"

Jack sighed. He knew that Avery wasn't going to be pleasant in the aftermath, but a part of him had still hoped otherwise. He could practically feel Liz's eyes narrowing next to him, but thankfully she held her tongue. She understood that Avery was Jack's to deal with.

"It's hardly your business. You got what you wanted in the settlement; it's time to move on," he stated calmly.

Avery's face darkened. "Be careful, Donaghy," she said lowly. "Unless you want to see Elizabeth even less."

It took Jack a second to understand what she meant by her threat—then he remembered that Avery never referred to their daughter by her nickname. He sighed, feeling exhausted even though they'd been talking for all of five minutes. He had almost forgotten what it was like for every moment to be a competition; for every remark to be delivered with the intention of gaining the upper hand. Objectively, she was as beautiful as he remembered, but he could see now that her iciness encompassed her entire being; something that he had overlooked much too often during their relationship.

It was part of a long list of things he'd been denying to himself.

Regardless, Avery was dangerous, and he had been fooling himself thinking he could put her off forever. He would need to face the facts at some point, but for now, he just wanted to continue his night with Liz. His only choice, for now, was to give her nothing to work with.

"My apologizes, Avery. I've no idea what I was thinking."

She crossed her arms, and eyed Liz up and down. Jack didn't feel the need to explain; even during their relationship, Avery had suspected his feelings for Liz, and was certainly capable of drawing her own conclusions. He felt as Liz shifted nervously under his arm, probably still worried that she was going to get "sharked" tonight. The blond's eyes narrowed as she noted their intimate position. Jack knew that he'd never held Avery like that in public, and rarely even in private. She simply hadn't allowed it. He was saddened, once more, at the time he had wasted, but did not regret it…after all, Avery had given him Liddy, and so he would be civil.

After a beat, he continued, "It's been…wonderful to see you. I wish you a pleasant rest of the evening with whoever is accompanying you tonight."

"Like you care," she huffed, and stormed off without another word. She was correct; he did not care in the slightest.

"See ya, Avery," Liz said softly. Jack turned to her, and frowned.

"Forgive me, Lemon," he said. "And believe me when I say that I was not expecting that tonight."

She swallowed and gave him a sympathetic look. "I mean, we knew there was a chance of her showing up, Jack. Don't let it ruin the whole thing. We'll get past it."

He was always grateful for her, but it was moment like these when he appreciated her support the most. It was sometimes easy to forget that he wasn't in this alone.

When he embraced her without warning, she made a tiny noise of surprise before returning the hug.

"Thank you, Lemon," he said.

"Yeah, anytime. Since when are you a hugger?" she whined, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Since I've got something worth hugging," he muttered almost inaudibly. Her heart swelled a bit, even though he probably hadn't meant to say it aloud. She was so onto him, though. What would he do if she told everyone that Jack Donaghy was really a big softie? She smiled into his shoulder, because….well. A waiter with a new platter of crab puffs had just surfaced a few feet away, that's why.

Later that night, Liz struggled to stay upright while they rode home in the town car. The combination of dancing, champagne and food had made her drowsy, and she leaned her head on Jack's shoulder just for a moment…

"Lemon, wake up; we're here," Jack said softly.

She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'redundant torso fabric'. Jack didn't want to know. Instead, he nudged her gently, brushing the soft bangs from her eyes.

Liz yawned and opened her eyes. Jack's door was open, and his body was in shadow against the starry night sky. She reluctantly sat up and straightened her dress before accepting his hand to get out of the car. Once she was on her feet, he slipped an arm around her waist, and guided his drowsy date up to her apartment. He made sure that she made it to the bedroom safely before quietly leaving for the night.

-.-.-

A few days later, when he called her up to his office for a "budget meeting", Liz was beyond grateful for the interruption. She was having a hell of a time trying to write the political cold open for the week's show, and picking Jack's brain about politics always proved to be amusing, if not actually informative. Not that she planned on discussing politics when she got up there.

As soon as she shut the door behind her, he threw the binder labeled "_TGS HATRED REPORT_" on his desk (someone had to keep up appearances, after all) and kissed her roughly. Liz responded in kind. After all, he wasn't the only one who was so freaking horny lately (she chalked it up to winter madness). She was glad that she only had a jersey dress and sweater on, because Jack tended to rip things if they didn't get out of the way in time. She learned this back when they had their first…office-quickie. Liz liked to think of it instead as a five-minute-frolic, because _frolic_ was a classy word, right?

Whatever.

Jack slid his hands around the curve of her ass and lifted her onto his desk. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. His thumbs moved over her nipples, their hardness evident through the two layers of fabric.

"Did I tell you how sexy you looked the other night?" he mumbled, kissing her neck hungrily.

"You don't think the dress was too much?" she said breathlessly, suppressing a moan at his movements. She trusted his new intern even less than she had Jonathon, and was constantly paranoid that they would be heard.

In response, he slid his hands over her hips and towards her inner thighs, bunching up the skirt of her dress.

"It was perfect," he muttered, simultaneously kissing her neck and teasing the edge of her panties with his fingers.

"Uhh," she said intelligently. He quickly undid his belt and grabbed a condom from a desk drawer. She slid her damp underpants off, and sighed when he sank into her. They made love urgently, but when it was over he kissed her sweetly; always a gentleman. Well, as gentlemanly as anyone can be after having a quick romp on a desk between conference calls. Liz still wasn't entirely sold on the whole thing…but God, he was sexy.

She looked into his eyes, which maybe used to be a lot bluer, but were still blue. They were still nice. And then she thought about the probability of their kids having blue eyes and, wow, where did that come from?

It had been a while since she'd thought about babies. The thought was always lingering, of course, but lately, she had been content just to be with Jack. Now that her dumb brain had brought it up again, though, she felt the craving like it'd never left. Did she want to have a kid with _Jack_, though?

He did know her. This man she had known for over six years, who had infuriated her, pushed her around, challenged her, danced with her, dried her tears (or, at least, patted her back with a broom), trusted her with his daughter, and made love to her, somehow knew her in a way she sometimes barely knew herself.

She loved him.

Liz braced herself for the wave of fear that accompanied this newly discovered vulnerability, but it didn't come. In its place was a kind of quiet giddiness, and a security that she hadn't allowed herself to hope for in years. In the midst of her realization, she sensed Jack watching her while he knotted his tie. He seemed to realize that something was on her mind.

"What is it, Lemon?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"I…nothing. I'm just glad, that's all," she said, and ducked her head to straighten her clothes.

"Yes, well, I don't deny that our sexual relations have been satisfactory as of late," he boasted.

She hopped off his desk and stepped into her heels.

"Don't let it go to your head—oops, too late," she said, heading out the door. Not her most original comeback, but hey, she'd just had a life-altering realization.

She needed to go talk to some food about this.

-.-.-

When he said the words to her, it was later that night, like he'd been reading her mind or something.

"What?" She froze mid-chew.

They were just lounging on her couch, watching TV and eating take-out after work. Her Slanket was safely tucked away in a closet (she couldn't bear to throw it out), but they shared a fleece blanket she'd picked up. She had felt lethargic a moment ago from Top-Chef-with-food-and-Jack-coziness, but was now awake like she'd been electrified.

"I love you," he repeated, and dipped his chopsticks back into the cardboard container.

"That's not fair!" she whined.

"Excuse me?" Not the response he'd been expecting.

"It's not fair, because I realized that today already, and I was gonna say something, but you _always_ have to be the first to do _everything_, and so how the heck am I supposed to—"

He cut her off. "Wait, you realized what?"

She took a breath, because she didn't want to start babbling again.

"You know. That I love you. And stuff."

"And stuff?" He grinned, enjoying her awkwardness.

"Okay, so I can't think of what "stuff" means right now. Basically, I love you. That's all for now, folks," she said softly. God, she needed some new material.

"That is absolutely fine with me, Lemon," he said, and leaned in…

…For some of her noodles. Which earned him a light punch, a kiss, and a "shut up, it's back on!"

Love is a funny thing.

-.-.-

Several months later, they met in her office after what seemed like ages. Between Thanksgiving weekend, a conference in Hong Kong, and most recently, the TGS Christmas show, they'd barely seen each other since mid-November. They finally were able to catch up over lunch; Liz was happily devouring a sub that he'd brought her from that place she liked.

"Great holiday show the other night, Lemon. Nothing was burned or demolished otherwise. Well done."

"Can't you just say 'Christmas?' God." Amazingly, the food stayed in her mouth during this retort.

"No, I cannot; not legally. Anyways, we have a few very happy advertisers on our hands."

"Tell them they can thank me with food baskets."

"Don't you mean fruit…?"

"Why would anyone waste a perfectly good basket on _fruit_, Jack?" She looked at him like he was crazy.

"That's a good point."

She chewed her sub for a moment, enjoying the medley of flavors. Veal, fennel, lemon, cheese and pork…some crazy things just go well together.

"How was your Thanksgiving cruise with Jenna?" he asked. Speaking of which.

"Pretty sucky."

She proceeded to tell him about the fire in the cruise's lounge, including the captain jumping overboard and abandoning the passengers.

"See if I ever step foot on a boat again," she said. "I don't care how many 2-for-1 deals Carnival does in the future."

He raised his eyebrows, somewhat surprised that a boat was her vehicle of choice after what happened to her parents. Mostly, he was just glad she was all right.

"Yes, that'd be wise. Sadly, your holiday experience was probably better than mine. Colleen spent nearly the entire duration of our visit ranting about the atrocity that is Tofurkey."

Liz wrinkled her nose. "I kind of agree with her on that one."

"You would."

"So…_Christmas_!" she emphasized the word. "I cannot wait to get outta here."

"I find it hard to believe it's the 22nd already. I am eager to…do things to you under a blanket by the fireplace," he said lowly, leaning in just a bit.

She swallowed and tried to appear unaffected. "Um, yeah, definitely. I just have to wrap up things around here. I should be done before dinner tonight if I'm lucky," she replied.

"Wonderful. Just in time for our evening plans," he smirked.

"What plans?" she asked warily.

"I scored tickets to _Annie_ on Broadway as an early Christmas present."

"How?"

"I contacted those guys from the Museum gala. They were happy to send me a pair."

"Really," she said, eyes wide. She wasn't going to ask what Jack had done to those guys to make them cough up the tickets; the theater was only putting on a few holiday performances and they'd been sold out for weeks (she knew how to use a Google Alert).

"Yes, really. Of course, if you're not interested, I could always just give the tickets to Tracy. I know that he doesn't really appreciate musical theater, but still…"

"Wait, wait! I'm interested, I didn't say I wasn't!" she said quickly. He waited for her to calm down.

"What kind of seats are they? Mezzanine?" she asked after a moment.

"Please," he scoffed. "Mezzanine is for tourists and D-list celebrities, like the actors who play the dads in Disney channel original movies. These tickets are for private balcony."

"Damn," she whistled. "Dude, I am most certainly in."

"Very nice, Lemon," he said sarcastically, and stood to leave. "I'll pick you up at seven, and we'll have a late dinner after the show. Text me if you're running behind at work."

"Will do," she said, and saluted him, managing to fling a bit of meatball on her carpet in the process_. _Gross.

Later that day (after a "Happy Holidays, nerds!", followed by "why's she so happy?" and then "she's getting laid, remember?"), Liz finally made it home. She picked a dress at random that she hadn't worn in a while. She wasn't sure if it would fit great, but hey, it's dark in theaters, right?

There was a knock, and she checked her lipstick one last time before opening the door. Jack was leaning against the wall, but stood up straight when he saw her. His eyes travelled over the whole of her, then, "You look incredible."

Dear God, did the woman own anything conservative anymore? Actually, he didn't really mind.

"Seeing as the last time you saw me I had meatball on my face, I didn't have to try hard to top that," she said. He didn't answer.

"Put your eyes back in their sockets, Jack," Liz said, getting impatient. They were going to see _Annie_, for God's sake!

"Of course, how rude of me," he grinned and escorted her downstairs.

When the curtain finally fell to thunderous applause, Jack glanced over and was surprised to see Liz's eyes welling up. Startled, he asked the reason behind her tears.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to cry," she laughed weakly. "It just…I've been wanting to see this show, on Broadway I mean, since I was little." She paused and dabbed at her eyes, smudging her mascara a bit. "Thank you for taking me, Jack."

It was a moment before he spoke, still surprised that she was so moved. He knew that she loved _Annie_, but had no idea that it would mean this much to her. He sensed something else behind her words, but she would tell him when the time was right.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Lemon. Crying from joy is certainly preferable to vomiting," he said, helping her into her coat.

"Yeah, I guess. It's not as weird," she agreed.

"I'm glad you had fun. Are you hungry?"

There was no way that she was gonna dignify _that_ with a response.

-.-.-

This year, Christmas had kinda snuck up on her.

Between TGS, working on her new book, and Jack, Liz barely had time to even think. Usually, this was a good thing, because it meant that she was living life instead of constantly analyzing it. But a few weeks into November, it had hit her that this would be the first Christmas without her parents. The pang of sadness turned into that of guilt when she realized that she and her family had spent the past few holidays apart, which started her thinking in a downward spiral. At this point, she was so dizzy that she couldn't breathe, and went into the bathroom to hide. She sat on a toilet and cried for hours, and that's when Jenna found her. After a surprisingly heartfelt conversation, they made plans to go on the cruise over Thanksgiving. Liz had then dried her tears and headed upstairs to ask Jack if he wanted to spend Christmas with her this year. She didn't think she could take it if she was alone.

She was feeling better by Christmas Eve (_Annie_ had really cheered her up), and it didn't hurt that Jack seemed fine with parking on the couch in front of the fireplace with a remote in one hand and some sort of alcohol in the other. Liz was content with this arrangement, because she knew exactly the right moment to steal the remote from him (usually when the T-Mobile commercials came on, he _really_ liked the pink-dress-wearing-girl). Neither of them were really in the mood for any special holiday activities; they would just exchange the gifts under the sizable tree in Jack's living room and order take-out. The tree, with its perfect twinkly lights, was probably far more expensive than it appeared. It was mostly for Liddy, who was at her mother's until the next morning. The night was theirs.

The apartment was bathed in the warm light provided by the fire, and light snow was falling outside the building. Liz smiled and absentmindedly pushed a thick curl behind her ear. She couldn't explain it, because most of the time, snow was a pain in the ass. But there was something about snow on Christmas Eve that just seemed to blanket the world in peace. She snuggled closer to Jack, who placed a kiss on her forehead and asked what she wanted for dinner. They had been fine just sipping drinks for a while, but it was getting late and the hour when Liz's stomach would start talking for her was rapidly approaching.

"I dunno. Thai?"

He grimaced. "We always have Asian, though. The delivery guy gave _us_ a Christmas bonus this year. How about Chipotle?"

"Buddy, if you want any of _the business_ tonight, it's best that I don't go near a burrito."

"A valid point. Hmmm, how about an old-fashioned meatball sub?"

"Yes! Just like Jesus had," she beamed. See, they were totally good at making decisions together. He even remembered the extra bread.

The food arrived and they ate to a classical CD that Jack put on. Liz hated most Christmas music, but she could tolerate it if there were no…words involved. Somehow, they got to talking about the many problems with Christmas, including the pressure to be politically correct about the holidays, commercialism, and the logistic issues with Christmas myths, when Liz brought up Santa.

"There is just something so wrong about a man who would willingly force himself down a chimney to give presents to kids. I mean, doesn't the guy think at all about the fact that maybe he'll get stuck?" Liz shook her head before taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Lemon, I honestly cannot believe you're debating Santa Claus," Jack said as he swirled his scotch around in his glass.

"I mean, I get that kids are into it and whatnot, but can't he just use the front door like most normal people would?"

He rolled his eyes in reply, and let his thoughts wander while they finished their meal. He thought of Liz's crying at the performance the other day; he had put it out of his mind, but it was bugging him that something was bothering her.

"The other day, Lemon, you seemed upset by something after the show. I was wondering if I could help in any way," he began.

She swallowed, and pushed her wrapper away. "Oh, Jack…I didn't want to ruin the night by bringing it up."

"What do you mean?"

"You've done so much for me lately, I just felt like it would be ungrateful of me to rain on the parade. I guess it's not that big a deal, though." She carefully filled him in on that November morning and Jenna finding her, and now he understood why she had an edge of desperation to her voice when asking him about Christmas plans.

"Seeing _Annie _just made me think about my mom again, and how she would have loved it, too."

"Thank you for telling me. I know you know that I'm willing to help in any way that I can; I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

They finished, and Liz suggested they open presents. She crossed her fingers for one of those cool Chia Pets that she'd always meant to buy, but never got around to it.

"You go first," she said lightly. She felt nervous about her gift, and was maybe putting it off.

He handed her a pale golden envelope. She could feel by the weight of the paper that the stuff was not from the clearance section of Papyrus, where she sometimes found little owl bookmarks with googly—

But she was getting distracted, and he was waiting. So she opened it.

"It looks like an invoice," she frowned. "Are you charging me for my Christmas gift? I thought we were done with the zero-dollars thing, and I don't think this is what that means anyways—"

"Just read it," he interrupted.

She did, and it was mostly business jargon, but she did catch the words in bold:

_**Our lawyers will be in touch to confirm Kabletown's purchase of the clothing chain 'Brooklyn Without Limits'.**_

This was followed by a pretentious-looking signature, and the Halliburton letterhead.

"Oh my god," she said excitedly. Then she frowned. "What does this mean?"

"Isn't it obvious? I bought BWL under Kabletown. Now you can buy those jeans that you like with a clean conscience. Of course, I'll be passing this off to one of our subsidiaries."

"Um…what?"

He pulled a complex-looking organizational chart from under a couch cushion.

"You see, Kabletown/GE owns KitchenAll of Colorado, which in turn owns JMI of Stamford which is a majority shareholder of which acquired the Sheinhardt Wig Company, which owns NBC outright. NBC owns Winnipeg Iron Works which owns the Ethnic Textiles company of Guam, which is an unincorporated territory of the United States, and _they_ will make the jeans in a sweatshop there, so technically they will be truly handmade in USA," he said briskly.

Liz just stared. She realized on some level that Jack was kind of doing a nice thing for her, but his explanation was long and a little shady sounding, if she was being honest. Overall, she was happy enough with the gesture to not think about it too hard.

"Um, thanks, I guess."

"There's something else in the envelope," he said.

She shook the object out. It looked like a credit card and bared the words:

FREE BROOKLYN WITHOUT LIMITS FOR LIFE

"It's just like Jenna's Carvel card!" she squealed. "And hers actually got revoked, so boo-yah!"

She threw her arms around him, because this made the present a lot better. He chuckled and squeezed her back, before wishing her a 'Merry Christmas'.

"Thank you, Jack. I love free things. And you. Mostly you, even though I said the other stuff first." She let go and kissed him before she pulled away, seeming to realize something.

"Wait a second. This gift is for you as much as it is for me, isn't it?" Her dark eyes, sparkling in the dim light just moments before, narrowed dangerously.

"I've no idea what you're referring to," he said innocently. She knew his poker face when she saw it, though.

"Oh, come on. You know that as long as I use this lifetime supply of jeans card, you will get a lifetime supply of excellent butt, mister." She jabbed him in the chest with her finger until he caught her hand after a few pokes and kissed it.

"You got me, Lemon. For the record, I enjoy your…butt, as you say, with or without jeans. This is merely icing on the cake." _Son of a dingbat._ He swore he wouldn't compare Lemon to cake ever again.

"Whatever. I guess if your present was overly gushy, I would have been suspicious. But this is in-character for you, so congrats. I approve of and accept this gift."

"I'm so glad."

She slowly reached for a small box under the tree, suddenly apprehensive again.

"Um, I just wanna say that, if you…don't like this, that's…that's okay with me."

"Lemon, people typically try to encourage excitement about their gifts, not the opposite."

"I just don't want to….ugh, just open it," she mumbled, and handed the present to him.

He opened it and removed the contents, holding it up with a puzzled look.

"It's…a key?"

"Well, um, I wondered if you were, you know, ready to move in together. To your place, though. I realize that me wrapping up a little key—which, by the way, is my post office box key, and I actually need to keep it—seems like I'm inviting you to live in my apartment. But my apartment is obviously way smaller. And I meant for your place to become our place. That sounds really rude. Sorry, this is stupid," she babbled.

He said nothing during this, and she seemed not to notice the tiny smirk on his face.

"Lemon," he sighed. "Of course you can move in with me."

She nodded and mentally slapped herself. "Cool. Okay."

"I'm proud of you," he smiled. "You've grown a lot. Although…you call yourself a writer, yet your little speech was about as coherent as a drunk Leslie Knope. However, I hardly expect otherwise at this point, and that's fine, because it means I know you."

"Wait, the lady from _Parks and Recreation_?" Liz frowned.

"Yes, why?"

"I thought you never watched NBC, that's all," she shrugged.

"I have been known to enjoy…fiery leading women once in a while," he said, pulling her into his arms.

"Okay, well, I guess it's a good thing that I run a show, then," Liz boasted.

"Yes, quite."

"That reminds me. I have one more present for you," she yawned. He mumbled a response, feeling heavy from all of the damn Christmas spirit.

She brightened and shrugged out of her sweater. He raised an eyebrow, half-heartedly wondering at her sudden burst of energy. When she calmly kept going and started to remove her shirt, he found himself awake pretty quickly.

Red lingerie.

"Have you been good this year?" she remarked casually, slowly continuing her strip.

"Absolutely not," he growled, and traced one bra strap with his finger.

"At least you're truthful."

She smirked, and stood to slip off her pants as Jack's lips curved up in a seductive smile.

"Lemon, you are most certainly on the naughty list yourself."

Her eyebrows arched for a second and then her hands settled against his chest as she kneeled between his legs. "_I'm_ on the naughty list? How is that even possible?"

Jack laughed once and pulled her closer to his torso. She felt his hardness and laughed quietly.

"I see."

"Merry Christmas to us all," he groaned as her hands moved southward.

_END._

Author's Note: Thanks for reading!


End file.
